1 My soul is weary of my life; I will leave my complaint upon myself; I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. 2 I will say unto God, Do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou contendest with me. 3 Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands, and shine upon the counsel of the wicked? 4 Hast thou eyes of flesh? or seest thou as man seeth? 5 Are thy days as the days of man? are thy years as man’s days, 6 That thou enquirest after mine iniquity, and searchest after my sin? 7 Thou knowest that I am not wicked; and there is none that can deliver out of thine hand.
8 Thine hands have made me and fashioned me together round about; yet thou dost destroy me. 9 Remember, I beseech thee, that thou hast made me as the clay; and wilt thou bring me into dust again? 10 Hast thou not poured me out as milk, and curdled me like cheese? 11 Thou hast clothed me with skin and flesh, and hast fenced me with bones and sinews. 12 Thou hast granted me life and favour, and thy visitation hath preserved my spirit. 13 And these things hast thou hid in thine heart: I know that this is with thee.
14 If I sin, then thou markest me, and thou wilt not acquit me from mine iniquity. 15 If I be wicked, woe unto me; and if I be righteous, yet will I not lift up my head. I am full of confusion; therefore see thou mine affliction; 16 For it increaseth. Thou huntest me as a fierce lion: and again thou shewest thyself marvellous upon me. 17 Thou renewest thy witnesses against me, and increasest thine indignation upon me; changes and war are against me. 18 Wherefore then hast thou brought me forth out of the womb? Oh that I had given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me! 19 I should have been as though I had not been; I should have been carried from the womb to the grave. 20 Are not my days few? cease then, and let me alone, that I may take comfort a little, 21 Before I go whence I shall not return, even to the land of darkness and the shadow of death; 22 A land of darkness, as darkness itself; and of the shadow of death, without any order, and where the light is as darkness.
1 I am tired of living.
Listen to my bitter complaint.
2 Don't condemn me, God.
Tell me! What is the charge against me?
3 Is it right for you to be so cruel?
To despise what you yourself have made?
And then to smile on the schemes of wicked people?
4 Do you see things as we do?
5 Is your life as short as ours?
6 Then why do you track down all my sins
and hunt down every fault I have?
7 You know that I am not guilty,
that no one can save me from you.
8 Your hands formed and shaped me,
and now those same hands destroy me.
9 Remember that you made me from clay;
are you going to crush me back to dust?
10 You gave my father strength to beget me;
you made me grow in my mother's womb.
11 You formed my body with bones and sinews
and covered the bones with muscles and skin.
12 You have given me life and constant love,
and your care has kept me alive.
13 But now I know that all that time
you were secretly planning to harm me.
14 You were watching to see if I would sin,
so that you could refuse to forgive me.
15 As soon as I sin, I'm in trouble with you,
but when I do right, I get no credit.
I am miserable and covered with shame.
16 If I have any success at all,
you hunt me down like a lion;
to hurt me you even work miracles.
17 You always have some witness against me;
your anger toward me grows and grows;
you always plan some new attack.
18 Why, God, did you let me be born?
I should have died before anyone saw me.
19 To go from the womb straight to the grave
would have been as good as never existing.
20 Isn't my life almost over? Leave me alone!
Let me enjoy the time I have left.
21 I am going soon and will never come back—
going to a land that is dark and gloomy,
22 a land of darkness, shadows, and confusion,
where the light itself is darkness.