1 Then Job spoke again:
What miserable comforters you are!
What makes you keep on talking?
I could spout off criticism and shake my head at you.
I would try to take away your grief.
and I suffer no less if I refuse to speak.
and devastated my family.
My gaunt flesh testifies against me.
He snaps his teeth at me
and pierces me with his eyes.
They slap my cheek in contempt.
A mob gathers against me.
He has tossed me into the hands of the wicked.
He took me by the neck and broke me in pieces.
Then he set me up as his target,
His arrows pierce me without mercy.
The ground is wet with my blood.a
charging at me like a warrior.
My pride lies in the dust.
dark shadows circle my eyes.
and my prayer is pure.
Let it cry out on my behalf.
My advocate is there on high.
but I pour out my tears to God.
as a person mediates between friends.
from which I will never return.
Job, 16 chapter. New Living Translation.