1 I am weary of my life; I will let loose within me my complaint; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2 I will say unto God, Do not condemn me! Show me wherefore thou contendest with me!
3 Is it a pleasure to thee to oppress, And to despise the work of thy hands, And to shine upon the plans of the wicked?
4 Hast thou eyes of flesh, Or seest thou as man seeth?
5 Are thy days as the days of a man, Are thy years as the days of a mortal,
6 That thou seekest after my iniquity, And searchest after my sin,
7 Though thou knowest that I am not guilty, And that none can deliver from thy hand?
8 Have thy hands completely fashioned and made me In every part, that thou mightst destroy me?
9 O remember that thou hast moulded me as clay! And wilt thou bring me again to dust?
10 Thou didst pour me out as milk, And curdle me as cheese;
11 With skin and flesh didst thou clothe me, And strengthen me with bones and sinews;
12 Thou didst grant me life and favor, And thy protection preserved my breath:
13 Yet these things thou didst lay up in thy heart! I know that this was in thy mind.
14 If I sin, then thou markest me, And wilt not acquit me of mine iniquity.
15 If I am wicked,—then woe unto me! Yet if righteous, I dare not lift up my head; I am full of confusion, beholding my affliction.
16 If I lift it up, like a lion thou huntest me, And again showest thyself terrible unto me.
17 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, And increasest thine anger toward me; New hosts continually rise up against me.
18 Why then didst thou bring me forth from the womb? I should have perished, and no eye had seen me;
19 I should be as though I had not been; I should have been borne from the womb to the grave.
20 Are not my days few? O spare then, And let me alone, that I may be at ease a little while,
21 Before I go— whence I shall not return—To the land of darkness and death-shade,
22 The land of darkness like the blackness of death-shade, Where is no order, and where the light is as darkness.