1 Then Job answered and said:
And my calamity laid with it on the scales!
Therefore my words have been rash.
My spirit drinks in their poison;
The terrors of God are arrayed against me.
Or does the ox low over its fodder?
Or is there any taste in the white of an egg?
They are as loathsome food to me.
That God would grant me the thing that I long for!
That He would loose His hand and cut me off!
Though in anguish I would exult,
He will not spare;
For I have not concealed the words of the Holy One.
And what is my end, that I should prolong my life?
Or is my flesh bronze?
And is success driven from me?
Even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
Like the streams of the brooks that pass away,
And into which the snow vanishes.
When it is hot, they vanish from their place.
They go nowhere and perish.
The travelers of Sheba hope for them.
They come there and are confused.
You see terror and are afraid.
Or, ‘Offer a bribe for me from your wealth’?
Or, ‘Redeem me from the hand of oppressors’?
Cause me to understand wherein I have erred.
But what does your arguing prove?
And the speeches of a desperate one, which are as wind?
And you undermine your friend.
For I would never lie to your face.
Yes, concede, my righteousness [c]still stands!
Cannot my [d]taste discern the unsavory?