For then it would outweigh the sand of the seas—no wonder my words have been rash.

For the arrows of the Almighty have pierced me; my spirit drinks in their poison; the terrors of God are arrayed against me.

Does a wild donkey bray over fresh grass, or an ox low over its fodder?

Is tasteless food eaten without salt, or is there flavor in the white of an egg?

My soul refuses to touch them; they are loathsome food to me.

If only my request were granted and God would fulfill my hope:

that God would be willing to crush me, to unleash His hand and cut me off!

It still brings me comfort, and joy through unrelenting pain, that I have not denied the words of the Holy One.

What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What is my future, that I should be patient?

Is my strength like that of stone, or my flesh made of bronze?

Is there any help within me now that success is driven from me?

A despairing man should have the kindness of his friend, even if he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

But my brothers are as faithless as wadis, as seasonal streams that overflow,

darkened because of the ice and the inflow of melting snow,

but ceasing in the dry season and vanishing from their channels in the heat.

Caravans turn aside from their routes; they go into the wasteland and perish.

The caravans of Tema look for water; the travelers of Sheba hope to find it.

They are confounded because they had hoped; their arrival brings disappointment.

For now you are of no help; you see terror, and you are afraid.

Have I ever said, ‘Give me something; offer me a bribe from your wealth;

deliver me from the hand of the enemy; redeem me from the grasp of the ruthless’?

Teach me, and I will be silent. Help me understand how I have erred.

How painful are honest words! But what does your argument prove?

Do you intend to correct my words, and treat as wind my cry of despair?

You would even cast lots for an orphan and barter away your friend.