Chapter 9

  Then Job answered,  

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  'Truly I know that it is so, But how can man be just with God?  

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  If he is pleased to contend with him, He can't answer him one time in a thousand.  

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  God who is wise in heart, and mighty in strength: Who has hardened himself against him, and prospered?  

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  Who removes the mountains, and they don't know it, When he overturns them in his anger  

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  Who shakes the earth out of its place; The pillars of it tremble;  

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  Who commands the sun, and it doesn't rise, And seals up the stars;  

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  Who alone stretches out the heavens, Treads on the waves of the sea;  

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  Who makes the Bear, Orion, and the Pleiades, And the chambers of the south;  

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  Who does great things past finding out, Yes, marvelous things without number.  

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  Behold, he goes by me, and I don't see him. He passes on also, but I don't perceive him.  

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  Behold, he snatches away; who can hinder him? Who will ask him, 'What are you doing?'  

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  'God will not withdraw his anger; The helpers of Rahab stoop under him.  

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  How much less shall I answer him, Choose my words to argue with him?  

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  Whom, though I were righteous, yet would I not answer. I would make supplication to my judge.  

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  If I had called, and he had answered me, Yet would I not believe that he listened to my voice.  

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  For he breaks me with a tempest, Multiplies my wounds without cause.  

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  He will not allow me to take my breath, But fills me with bitterness.  

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  If it is a matter of strength, behold, he is mighty! If of justice, 'Who,' says he, 'will summon me?'  

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  Though I am righteous, my own mouth shall condemn me. Though I am blameless, it shall prove me perverse.  

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  I am blameless. I don't regard myself. I despise my life.  

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  'It is all the same. Therefore I say, He destroys the blameless and the wicked.  

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  If the scourge kills suddenly, He will mock at the trial of the innocent.  

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  The earth is given into the hand of the wicked. He covers the faces of the judges of it. If not he, then who is it?  

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  'Now my days are swifter than a runner. They flee away, they see no good,  

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  They have passed away as the swift ships, As the eagle that swoops on the prey.  

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  If I say, 'I will forget my complaint, I will put off my sad face, and cheer up;'  

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  I am afraid of all my sorrows, I know that you will not hold me innocent.  

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  I shall be condemned; Why then do I labor in vain?  

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  If I wash myself with snow, And cleanse my hands with lye,  

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  Yet you will plunge me in the ditch. My own clothes shall abhor me.  

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  For he is not a man, as I am, that I should answer him, That we should come together in judgment.  

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  There is no umpire between us, That might lay his hand on us both.  

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  Let him take his rod away from me, Let his terror not make me afraid:  

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  Then I would speak, and not fear him, For I am not so in myself.  

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