[1] "My soul is weary of my life;    I will give free course to my
complaint.    I will speak in the bitterness of my soul. [2] I will tell
God, `Do not condemn me,    Show me why you contend with me. [3] Is it good
to you that you should oppress,    That you should despise the work of your
hands,	  And smile on the counsel of the wicked? [4] Do you have eyes of
flesh?	  Or do you see as man sees? [5] Are your days as the days of
mortals,    Or your years as man`s years, [6] That you inquire after my
iniquity,    And search after my sin? [7] Although you know that I am not
wicked,    There is no one who can deliver out of your hand. [8] `Your
hands have framed me and fashioned me altogether;    Yet you destroy me.
[9] Remember, I beg you, that you have fashioned me as clay.	Will you
bring me into dust again? [10] Haven`t you poured me out like milk,    And
curdled me like cheese? [11] You have clothed me with skin and flesh,	
And knit me together with bones and sinews. [12] You have granted me life
and lovingkindness.    Your visitation has preserved my spirit. [13] Yet
you hid these things in your heart.    I know that this is with you: [14]
If I sin, then you mark me.    You will not acquit me from my iniquity.
[15] If I am wicked, woe to me.    If I am righteous, I still shall not
lift up my head,    Being filled with disgrace,    And conscious of my
affliction. [16] If my head is held high, you hunt me like a lion.    Again
you show yourself powerful to me. [17] You renew your witnesses against me,
   And increase your indignation on me.    Changes and warfare are with me.
[18] "`Why, then, have you brought me forth out of the womb?	I wish I
had given up the spirit, 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] Aren`t my days few? Cease then,    Leave me alone, that I may
find a little comfort, [21] Before I go where I shall not return from,	 
To the land of darkness and of the shadow of death; [22] The land dark as
midnight,    Of the shadow of death, without any order,    Where the light
is as midnight.`"