Job 17

¹ My spirit is broken,
my days are cut short,
the grave awaits me.
² Surely mockers surround me;
my eyes must dwell on their hostility.

³ “Give me, O God, the pledge you demand.
Who else will put up security for me?
⁴ You have closed their minds to understanding;
therefore you will not let them triumph.
⁵ If anyone denounces their friends for reward,
the eyes of their children will fail.

⁶ “God has made me a byword to everyone,
a man in whose face people spit.
⁷ My eyes have grown dim with grief;
my whole frame is but a shadow.
⁸ The upright are appalled at this;
the innocent are aroused against the ungodly.
⁹ Nevertheless, the righteous will hold to their ways,
and those with clean hands will grow stronger.

¹⁰ “But come on, all of you, try again!
I will not find a wise man among you.
¹¹ My days have passed, my plans are shattered.
Yet the desires of my heart
¹² turn night into day;
in the face of the darkness light is near.
¹³ If the only home I hope for is the grave,
if I spread out my bed in the realm of darkness,
¹⁴ if I say to corruption, ‘You are my father,’
and to the worm, ‘My mother’ or ‘My sister,’
¹⁵ where then is my hope—
who can see any hope for me?
¹⁶ Will it go down to the gates of death?
Will we descend together into the dust?”