Job 31

I set a ban upon my eyes;

   How then could I look lustfully upon a maid?

What would be my portion from God?

   My lot from the Almighty on high?

Would not calamity befall the unrighteous?

   Disaster the worker of iniquity?

Does He not see my way?

   Number my every step?

Have I walked the way of falsehood?

   Have my feet hastened to deceit?

Let God weight me on the scales of righteousness,

   Let God ascertain my integrity!

If my step has turned aside from the right path,

   My heart has strayed after my eyes,

      Or a blot ever cleaved to my hands,

Let me sow, Let another eat,

   Let what springs forth from me be rooted out.

If I have let a woman beguile my heart,

   Or if I have lain with in wait at my neighbor’s,

Then let my wife grind for another,

   And let others kneel over her

For I thought,

   That would be a heinous crime,

      Iniquity worthy of judicial punishment.

Indeed, a fire burning down to Abaddon,

   Consuming the roots of all my increase,

Have I ever spurned the case of my man servant,

   Or of my maid servant, when they contend with me?

What then shall I do, when God stands up,

   When He examines me, how shall I answer?

Did not He who made me in the womb also make them?

   Did not the same one fashion us alike in the womb?

Have I withheld the poor from their desire?

   Or made the eyes of the widow to pine?

Have I eaten my morsel alone?

   Not allowing the fatherless any of it?

For from my youth, he was grown up with me, as with a father,

   From my mother’s womb, have I guided the widow.

When I saw any suffer for lack of clothing,

   Or any poor without a covering,

Did not his loins bless me,

   As he warmed with the sheerings of my sheep.

If ever I raised my hand against the weak,

   Because I had support within the court,

Then let my shoulder fall from the socket,

   My arm be broken from its shaft.

For I always feared a calamity from God,

   For I could not bear His magnificence.

Have I ever put my trust in gold?

   Called fine gold my bulwark?

Have I rejoiced over my great wealth?

   The abundance my hand hath found?

Have I beheld the sun and its brightness,

   The rare moon among its movements,

So that my heart was seduced in secret?

   And my hand caressed my mouth in adoration?

This too would be an iniquity worthy of judgement,

   For it would be unfaithful to God above.

Have I rejoiced at the ruin of he who hates me,

   Or exalted when evil befell him?

Never did I suffer my mouth to sin,

   By asking for his life in a ritual curse.

Did those of my tents ever say,

   ‘Would that we had his flesh, never could we be sated.’

No sojourner ever spent the night in the open,

   My doors were always open for the wayfarer.

Have I, like Adam, concealed my iniquity?

   Hid my sin in my bosom?

That I should fear the great multitude,

   The contempt of the clans terrifying me,

      That I keep silent and do not go outdoors?

O that I had some one to hear me!

   Behold, this is my desire!

That the Almighty answer me!

   That my accuser put the indictment in writing!

Surely, I would bear it upon my shoulder,

   Bind it, as a crown upon me.

I would declare to Him an account of my every step,

  I would come into His presence as my prince.

If ever my land has cried out against me,

   Together all its furrows wet with tears,

Because I had eaten its yield without payment,

   Brought its titleholders to spiritual despair.

Let thistles grow instead of wheat,

   Instead of barley, stinkweed,

      And Job ceased speaking.

 

Job 317