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Job 16

Job expresses frustration with his friends' empty words of comfort, stating he could offer the same kind of comfort if their situations were reversed. He feels overwhelmed by his grief and physical suffering, which he believes is a result of God's wrath. Job maintains his innocence, claiming he has done nothing to deserve this treatment, and wishes for a mediator to plead his case before God. He longs for death, knowing that his time on earth is short and he will not return from the path he is on.

Then Job, answering, said:I have often heard such things; you are all aggravating comfortersWill there be no end to windy words? Or is it at all a burden to you, if you speakI, too, can speak like you; and I also wish that your soul favored my soul. I would also comfort you with speeches and would wag my head over youI would strengthen you with my mouth, and would move my lips, as if being lenient to youBut what can I do? When I am speaking, my grief will not be quiet; and if I am quiet, it will not withdraw from meBut now my grief has crushed me, and all my limbs have been reduced to nothingMy wrinkles bear witness against me, and a liar rises up against my face, contradicting meHe has gathered together his fury towards me, and, threatening me, he has roared against me with his teeth; my enemy has beheld me with terrible eyesThey have opened their mouths against me, and, reproaching me, they have struck me on the cheek; they are nourished by my sufferingsGod has confined me with the immoral, and he has delivered me into the hands of the impiousI, who once was wealthy, am now crushed. He has grabbed me by my neck; he has broken me and has placed me before him as a signHe has surrounded me with his lances. He has severely wounded my lower back, he has not been lenient, and he has poured out my organs upon the earthHe has cut me with wound after wound. He has rushed upon me like a giantI have sewn sackcloth over my skin, and I have covered my body with ashesMy face is swollen from weeping, and my eyelids have dimmed my visionThese things I have endured without iniquity in my hand, while I held pure prayers before GodO earth, do not conceal my blood, nor let my outcry find a hiding place in youFor behold, my witness is in heaven, and my confidante is on highMy friends are full of words; my eye rains tears upon GodAnd I wish that a man might be so judged before God, just as the son of man is judged with his assistantFor behold, a few years pass by, and I am walking a path by which I will not return
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