¹ My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.

¹¹ Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.

⁴ and he himself hath gone into the wilderness a day's Journey, and cometh and sitteth under a certain retem-tree, and desireth his soul to die, and saith, `Enough, now, O Jehovah, take my soul, for I `am' not better than my fathers.'

²¹ Perfect I am! -- I know not my soul, I despise my life.

¹⁵ and if thus Thou art doing to me -- slay me, I pray Thee; slay, if I have found grace in thine eyes, and let me not look on mine affliction.'

³ When I have kept silence, become old have my bones, Through my roaring all the day.

⁴ When by day and by night Thy hand is heavy upon me, My moisture hath been changed Into the droughts of summer. Selah.

⁵ My sin I cause Thee to know, And mine iniquity I have not covered. I have said, `I confess concerning My transgressions to Jehovah,' And Thou -- Thou hast taken away, The iniquity of my sin. Selah.

¹⁵ -- What do I say? seeing He said to me, And He Himself hath wrought, I go softly all my years for the bitterness of my soul.

¹⁷ Lo, to peace He changed for me bitterness, And Thou hast delighted in my soul without corruption, For Thou hast cast behind Thy back all my sins.

³ And now, O Jehovah, take, I pray Thee, my soul from me, for better `is' my death than my life.'

⁸ And it cometh to pass, about the rising of the sun, that God appointeth a cutting east wind, and the sun smiteth on the head of Jonah, and he wrappeth himself up, and asketh his soul to die, and saith, `Better `is' my death than my life.'

² Hear ye diligently my word, And this is your consolation.

³ Bear with me, and I speak, And after my speaking -- ye may deride.

⁴ I -- to man `is' my complaint? and if `so', wherefore May not my temper become short?

⁴ And also -- truly, I have erred, With me doth my error remain.

⁶ If I speak, my pain is not restrained, And I cease -- what goeth from me?

⁷ Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company,

⁸ And Thou dost loathe me, For a witness it hath been, And rise up against me doth my failure, In my face it testifieth.

⁹ His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me.

¹⁰ They have gaped on me with their mouth, In reproach they have smitten my cheeks, Together against me they set themselves.

¹¹ God shutteth me up unto the perverse, And to the hands of the wicked turneth me over.

¹² At ease I have been, and he breaketh me, And he hath laid hold on my neck, And he breaketh me in pieces, And he raiseth me to him for a mark.

¹³ Go round against me do his archers. He splitteth my reins, and spareth not, He poureth out to the earth my gall.

¹⁴ He breaketh me -- breach upon breach, He runneth upon me as a mighty one.

¹⁵ Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.

¹⁶ My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids `is' death-shade.

¹⁵ And He saveth the wasted from their mouth, And from a strong hand the needy,

¹⁶ And there is hope to the poor, And perverseness hath shut her mouth.

²⁰ In famine He hath redeemed thee from death, And in battle from the hands of the sword.

² O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!

³ For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.

⁴ For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!

⁸ O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!

⁹ That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!

²⁶ For reproof -- do you reckon words? And for wind -- sayings of the desperate.

¹⁶ I have wasted away -- not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days `are' vanity.

¹⁵ If I have done wickedly -- wo to me, And righteously -- I lift not up my head, Full of shame -- then see my affliction,

¹⁶ And it riseth -- as a lion Thou huntest me. And Thou turnest back -- Thou shewest Thyself wonderful in me.

¹³ O that in Sheol Thou wouldst conceal me, Hide me till the turning of Thine anger, Set for me a limit, and remember me.

²⁰ Why giveth He to the miserable light, and life to the bitter soul?

²¹ Who are waiting for death, and it is not, And they seek it above hid treasures.

²² Who are glad -- unto joy, They rejoice when they find a grave.

²³ To a man whose way hath been hidden, And whom God doth shut up?