Job 17
1I AM dying with a tortured spirit, and wishing for a burial, but do not obtain it.
2I am supplicating in distress, yet what have I done? Strangers have stolen my substance—who is the man?
3Let him be brought to trial with me.
4Because Thou hast hid their heart from understanding, Thou shouldst not for this cause exalt them.
5Shall he reckon misfortunes for his portion—and were his eyes melted for his children?
6But Thou hast made me a byword among nations, and I am become a subject of laughter for them.
7For mine eyes are dim with sorrow, and I am closely besieged by all.
8At this the upright are astonished.
9Now ’the righteous should prevail over the wicked’: and ’he who is faithful should hold on his way’: and ’he who hath clean hands should take courage.’
10On these maxims you all rely. But come now; for I do not find truth among you:
11my days have passed in groans, and my very heart-strings are broken.
12I have put night for day. Is light near on account of darkness?
13For though I have waited patiently, the mansion of the dead is to be my house, and my bed is made in darkness.
14I have called on death to be my father—and on corruption to be my sister and mother.
15Where then have I any ground of hope? Or shall I see those good things of mine?
16Shall they go down with me to the mansion of the dead? Or shall we go together beneath the mound?