Job Complains to God
My Hopes Have Died
1 My hopes have died,
my time is up,
and the grave is ready.
2 All I can see are angry crowds,
making fun of me.
3 If you, Lord, don't help,
who will pay the price
for my release?
4 My friends won't really listen,
all because of you,
and so you must be the one
to prove them wrong.
5 They have condemned me,
just to benefit themselves;
now blind their children.
6 You, God, are the reason
I am insulted and spit on.
7 I am almost blind with grief;
my body is a mere shadow.
8 People who are truly good
would feel so alarmed,
that they would become angry
with my worthless friends.
9 They would do the right thing
and because they did,
they would grow stronger.
10 But none of my friends
show any sense.
11 My life is drawing to an end;
hope has disappeared.
12 But all my friends can do
is offer empty hopes.
13 I could tell the world below
to prepare me a bed.
14 Then I could greet the grave
as my father
and say to the worms,
“Hello, mother and sisters!”
15 But what kind of hope is that?
16 Will it keep me company
in the world of the dead?
1 My breath is corrupt: my dayes are cut off, and the graue is readie for me. 2 There are none but mockers with mee, and mine eye continueth in their bitternesse. 3 Lay downe nowe and put me in suretie for thee: who is hee, that will touch mine hand? 4 For thou hast hid their heart from vnderstanding: therefore shalt thou not set them vp on hie. 5 For the eyes of his children shall faile, that speaketh flattery to his friends. 6 Hee hath also made mee a byword of the people, and I am as a Tabret before them. 7 Mine eye therefore is dimme for griefe, and all my strength is like a shadowe. 8 The righteous shalbe astonied at this, and the innocent shalbe moued against ye hypocrite. 9 But the righteous wil holde his way, and he whose hands are pure, shall increase his strength. 10 All you therefore turne you, and come nowe, and I shall not finde one wise among you. 11 My dayes are past, mine enterprises are broken, and the thoughts of mine heart 12 Haue changed the nyght for the day, and the light that approched, for darkenesse. 13 Though I hope, yet the graue shall bee mine house, and I shall make my bed in the darke. 14 I shall say to corruption, Thou art my father, and to the worme, Thou art my mother and my sister. 15 Where is then now mine hope? or who shall consider the thing, that I hoped for? 16 They shall goe downe into the bottome of the pit: surely it shall lye together in the dust.