AndוַJobאִיּוֹבagainיֹּסֶףtook upשְׂאֵתhis poemמְשָׁלוֹand said:וַיֹּאמַר
“As Elאֵלlives,חַיwho has taken awayהֵסִירmy right,מִשְׁפָּטִיand Shaddai,וְשַׁדַּיwho has embitteredהֵמַרmy soul,נַפְשִׁי
as long asכִּי כָל עוֹדmy breathנִשְׁמָתִיis in me,בִיand the spiritוְרוּחַof Eloahאֱלוֹהַּin my nostrils,בְּאַפִּי
my lipsשְׂפָתַיwill notאִםspeakתְּדַבֵּרְנָהinjustice,עַוְלָהnorוּ אִםwill my tongueלְשׁוֹנִיutterיֶהְגֶּהdeceit.רְמִיָּה
Far be itחָלִילָהfrom meלִּיthat I declare righteousאִם אַצְדִּיקyou;אֶתְכֶםuntilעַדI expireאֶגְוָעI will notלֹאremoveאָסִירmy integrityתֻּמָּתִיfrom me.מִמֶּנִּי
To my righteousnessבְּצִדְקָתִיI hold fast,הֶחֱזַקְתִּיand will notוְלֹאlet it go;אַרְפֶּהָmy heartלְבָבִיdoes notלֹאreproach meיֶחֱרַףfor any of my days.מִיָּמָי
Let my enemyאֹיְבִיbeיְהִיlike the wicked,כְרָשָׁעand the one who rises against meוּמִתְקוֹמְמִיlike the unjust.כְעַוָּל
Forכִּיwhatמַהis the hopeתִּקְוַתof the godlessחָנֵףwhenכִּיhe is cut off,יִבְצָעwhenכִּיEloahאֱלוֹהַּdraws outיֵשֶׁלhis life?נַפְשׁוֹ
WillהַElאֵלhearיִשְׁמַעhis cryצַעֲקָתוֹwhenכִּיanguishצָרָהcomesתָבוֹאupon him?עָלָיו
Will he delightאִם יִתְעַנָּגinעַלShaddai?שַׁדַּיWill he callיִקְרָאon Eloahאֱלוֹהַּat allבְּכָלtimes?עֵת
I will teachאוֹרֶהyouאֶתְכֶםabout the handבְּיַדof El;אֵלwhatאֲשֶׁרis withעִםShaddaiשַׁדַּיI will notלֹאhide.אֲכַחֵד
Look,הֵןall of youאַתֶּם כֻּלְּכֶםhave seen it;חֲזִיתֶםwhy,וְלָמָּהthen,זֶּהdo you become vainתֶּהְבָּלוּwith a vain thing?הֶבֶל
This isזֶהthe portionחֵלֶקof a wickedרָשָׁעhuman beingאָדָםwithעִםEl,אֵלand the inheritanceוְנַחֲלַתthat tyrantsעָרִיצִיםreceiveיִקָּחוּfrom Shaddai:מִשַּׁדַּי
ifאִםhis sonsבָנָיוmultiply,יִרְבּוּit is forלְמוֹthe sword;חָרֶבand his offshootsוְצֶאֱצָאָיוwill notלֹאbe satisfiedיִשְׂבְּעוּwith bread.לָחֶם
His survivorsשְׂרִידָיוwill be buriedיִקָּבֵרוּby death,בַּמָּוֶתand his widowsוְאַלְמְנֹתָיוwill notלֹאweep.תִבְכֶּינָה
Thoughאִםhe heap upיִצְבֹּרsilverכָּסֶףlike dust,כֶּעָפָרand prepareיָכִיןgarmentsמַלְבּוּשׁlike clay,וְכַחֹמֶר
he may prepare them,יָכִיןbut the righteousוְצַדִּיקwill wear them,יִלְבָּשׁand the innocentנָקִיwill divideיַחֲלֹקthe silver.וְכֶסֶף
He buildsבָּנָהhis houseבֵּיתוֹlike the moth,כָעָשׁand like a hutוּכְסֻכָּהthat a watchmanנֹצֵרmakes.עָשָׂה
He lies downיִשְׁכַּבrich,עָשִׁירbut will notוְלֹאbe gathered;יֵאָסֵףhe opensפָּקַחhis eyes,עֵינָיוand he is gone.וְאֵינֶנּוּ
Terrorsבַּלָּהוֹתovertake himתַּשִּׂיגֵהוּlike waters;כַמַּיִםby nightלַיְלָהthe whirlwindסוּפָהsteals him away.גְּנָבַתּוּ
The east windקָדִיםlifts him up,יִשָּׂאֵהוּand he is gone;וְיֵלַךְand it sweeps him away in a stormוִישָׂעֲרֵהוּfrom his place.מִמְּקֹמוֹ
And it hurlsוְיַשְׁלֵךְat himעָלָיוand does notוְלֹאhave compassion;יַחְמֹלfrom its handמִיָּדוֹhe flees in haste.בָּרוֹחַ יִבְרָח
It clapsיִשְׂפֹּקits palmsכַפֵּימוֹat him,עָלֵימוֹand hisses at himוְיִשְׁרֹק עָלָיוfrom its place.מִמְּקֹמוֹ