JobCapítulo 10

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I am sick of my life. I will let my complaint run free; I will speak out of the bitterness of my soul.
I will say to God: Do not condemn me. Tell me what charge you bring against me.
Does it please you to oppress me, to spurn the work of your own hands while you smile on the schemes of the wicked?
Do you have eyes of flesh? Do you see as a mortal sees?
Are your days like the days of a mortal, your years like the years of a man,
that you must search out my guilt and hunt for my sin—
though you know that I am not guilty, and no one can rescue me from your hand?
Your hands shaped me and made me, every part of me; will you now turn and destroy me?
Remember, I pray, that you molded me like clay. Will you return me to the dust?
Did you not pour me out like milk and curdle me like cheese,
clothe me with skin and flesh, and knit me together with bones and sinews?
You granted me life and showed me mercy, and your care watched over my spirit.
Yet this is what you hid in your heart; now I know what you had in mind.
If I sinned, you were watching me, and you would not let my guilt go unpunished.
If I am guilty—woe to me! And even if I am innocent, I cannot lift up my head, for I am filled with shame and see nothing but my affliction.
If I hold my head high, you hunt me like a lion and display your power against me again and again.
You bring fresh witnesses against me and pour out your anger on me; wave after wave assaults me.
Why then did you bring me out of the womb? I wish I had died before any eye saw me,
that I had never come to be—carried straight from the womb to the grave.
Are not my days few? Let me alone, turn away from me, so I may have a moment's comfort
before I go, never to return, to the land of darkness and deepest shadow,
to a land of gloom, dark as night itself, of deathly shadow and no order, where even the light is like darkness.