| 1 | And Job addeth to lift up his simile, and saith: -- |
| 2 | Who doth make me as [in] months past, As [in] the days of God's preserving me? |
| 3 | In His causing His lamp to shine on my head, By His light I walk [through] darkness. |
| 4 | As I have been in days of my maturity, And the counsel of God upon my tent. |
| 5 | When yet the Mighty One [is] with me. Round about me—my young ones, |
| 6 | When washing my goings with butter, And the firm rock [is] with me rivulets of oil. |
| 7 | When I go out to the gate by the city, In a broad place I prepare my seat. |
| 8 | Seen me have youths, and they, been hidden, And the aged have risen—they stood up. |
| 9 | Princes have kept in words, And a hand they place on their mouth. |
| 10 | The voice of leaders hath been hidden, And their tongue to the palate hath cleaved. |
| 11 | For the ear heard, and declareth me happy, And the eye hath seen, and testifieth [to] me. |
| 12 | For I deliver the afflicted who is crying, And the fatherless who hath no helper. |
| 13 | The blessing of the perishing cometh on me, And the heart of the widow I cause to sing. |
| 14 | Righteousness I have put on, and it clotheth me, As a robe and a diadem my justice. |
| 15 | Eyes I have been to the blind, And feet to the lame [am] I. |
| 16 | A father I [am] to the needy, And the cause I have not known I search out. |
| 17 | And I break the jaw-teeth of the perverse, And from his teeth I cast away prey. |
| 18 | And I say, 'With my nest I expire, And as the sand I multiply days.' |
| 19 | My root is open unto the waters, And dew doth lodge on my branch. |
| 20 | My honour [is] fresh with me, And my bow in my hand is renewed. |
| 21 | To me they have hearkened, Yea, they wait, and are silent for my counsel. |
| 22 | After my word they change not, And on them doth my speech drop, |
| 23 | And they wait as [for] rain for me, And their mouth they have opened wide [As] for the latter rain. |
| 24 | I laugh unto them—they give no credence, And the light of my face cause not to fall. |
| 25 | I choose their way, and sit head, And I dwell as a king in a troop, When mourners he doth comfort. |