וַיַּעַן אִיּוֹב וַיֹּאמַר׃

Job answered and said:

לוּ שָׁקוֹל יִשָּׁקֵל כַּעְשִׂי וְהַוָּתִי בְּמֹאזְנַיִם יִשְׂאוּ־יָחַד

If only my anger and pain were weighed, and my calamity borne, together on a scale,

כִּי־עַתָּה מֵחוֹל יַמִּים יִכְבָּד עַל־כֵּן דְּבָרַי לָעוּ

for now it, the weight of my pain, would weigh heavier than all of the sand of the seas in the world, as my suffering is too great to be measured; therefore, my words waver, they are incoherent and improperly formulated.

כִּי חִצֵּי שַׁדַּי עִמָּדִי אֲשֶׁר חֲמָתָם שֹׁתָה רוּחִי בִּעוּתֵי אֱלוֹהַּ יַעַרְכוּנִי

For the arrows of the Almighty, which He shot at me, are still in me, whose poison my spirit drinks; the terrors of God are arrayed in battle against me.

היִנְהַק פֶּרֶא עֲלֵי־דֶשֶׁא אִם יִגְעֶה־שּׁוֹר עַל־בְּלִילוֹ

Does the onager bray in dissatisfaction over grass? When it has ample food, this creature eats in silence. Does the ox low over his mash? My complaints do not emanate from a state of satisfaction and content. If all were well, I would not cry out in pain.

הֲיֵאָכֵל תָּפֵל מִבְּלִי־מֶלַח אִם־יֶשׁ־טַעַם בְּרִיר חַלָּמוּת

As for your response, Elifaz, it is insufficient to assuage my hunger and misery: Can the bland be eaten without salt? It is impossible to eat such food. Is there flavor in mallow sap, a plant whose liquid is tasteless?

מֵאֲנָה לִנְגּוֹעַ נַפְשִׁי הֵמָּה כִּדְוֵי לַחְמִי

Job continues: Your comments are comparable to those tasteless foods. My soul refuses to touch them; they are like the food of suffering for me.

מִי־יִתֵּן תָּבוֹא שֶׁאֱלָתִי וְתִקְוָתִי יִתֵּן אֱלוֹהַּ

If only my request would be accepted, fulfilled, and God would grant my hope,

וְיֹאֵל אֱלוֹהַּ וִידַכְּאֵנִי יַתֵּר יָדוֹ וִיבַצְּעֵנִי

and God would agree to crush me entirely; freeing His hand, and eliminating me. If He were to kill me, my suffering would end.

וּתְהִי עוֹד נֶחָמָתִי וַאֲסַלְּדָה בְחִילָה לֹא יַחְמוֹל כִּי־לֹא כִחַדְתִּי אִמְרֵי קָדוֹשׁ

May it, this death, yet be my consolation, as I shake in terror, due to my request to God to kill me without compassion, that I did not ignore the sayings of the Holy One.

מַה־כֹּחִי כִי־אֲיַחֵל וּמַה־קִּצִּי כִּי אַאֲרִיךְ נַפְשִׁי

What is my strength that I should wait? I no longer have enough energy to wait and hope. What will be my end, that my soul should endure more suffering? For what can I hope? I am broken financially, socially, mentally, and physically.

אִם־כֹּחַ אֲבָנִים כֹּחִי אִם־בְּשָׂרִי נָחוּשׁ

Is my strength the strength of stones? Is my flesh made of bronze? I am merely human, and I am not as tough and durable as stones or brass.

הַאִם אֵין עֶזְרָתִי בִי וְתֻשִׁיָּה נִדְּחָה מִמֶּנִּי

Is there no help for me? Even those friends who supposedly arrived to comfort me do not support my statements. Has resourcefulness been denied me?

לַמָּס מֵרֵעֵהוּ חָסֶד ויִרְאַת שַׁדַּי יַעֲזוֹב

Have assistance and sound wisdom abandoned me, for the sake of one who deprives [lamas] his neighbor of kindness, one who withholds kindness from his friend and dissolves [memoses] it, so to speak, or one who forsakes reverence of the Almighty?

אַחַי בָּגְדוּ כְמוֹ־נָחַל כַּאֲפִיק נְחָלִים יַעֲבֹרוּ

My brethren, upon whom I thought I could rely, have betrayed me like a ravine through which water flows irregularly, like the channel through which streams usually pass but is currently dry. The waters of such a seasonal stream disappoint those who rely upon them both in cold and hot conditions, as described in the following verses.

הַקֹּדְרִים מִנִּי־קָרַח עָלֵימוֹ יִתְעַלֶּם שָׁלֶג

These are brooks which are frozen, because of ice, and upon which snow accumulates.

בְּעֵת יְזֹרְבוּ נִצְמָתוּ בְּחֻמּוֹ נִדְעֲכוּ מִמְּקוֹמָם

However, when scorched, during a heat wave, they disappear and are cut off; in its, the channel’s, heat, they dwindle, or disappear, from their place, leaving nothing behind.

יִלָּפְתוּ אָרְחוֹת דַּרְכָּם יַעֲלוּ בַתֹּהוּ וְיֹאבֵדוּ

Their courses’ ways are winding; they go up into emptiness and are lost.

הִבִּיטוּ אָרְחוֹת תֵּמָא הֲלִיכֹת שְׁבָא קִוּוּ־לָמוֹ

They looked to the caravans of Tema; the convoys of Sheba, they hoped for them. Those who were thirsty and were disappointed by the drying of the streams, or the streams themselves, looked for the caravans coming and going from Tema, a city in Arabia, and waited for the convoys going back and forth from Sheba (see 1:15), hoping to obtain water from them.

בֹּשׁוּ כִי בָטָח בָּאוּ עָדֶיהָ וַיֶּחְפָּרוּ

But they were embarrassed and disappointed because they had previously trusted; they, the ones searching for water, came there, to each of the caravans in which they had placed their hopes, and were humiliated. Their disappointment at failing to receive the water they thirsted for shamed them and lowered their spirits. This metaphor reflects Job’s disappointment in his brothers, or in those who came to comfort him. He compares his anticipation for authentic comfort to one who thirsts for water. The person initially puts his hopes in seasonal streams, but they fail to provide water to quench his thirst. He subsequently seeks salvation from nomads living in the wilderness; however, they too do not provide him with the water he needs.

כִּי־עַתָּה הֱיִיתֶם לוֹ תִּרְאוּ חֲתַת וַתִּירָאוּ

For now you are not devoted to me, but you have become it [lo]. You have become like that seasonal stream, which does not provide water when it is needed. Alternatively, you act as though you cannot comfort me because you belong to Him, God. Some commentaries read lo as lamed-alef, meaning no, instead of lamed-vav, meaning his or it. According to this version, Job is saying that he placed his hopes in them, and yet they were unable to deliver. The support he anticipated never materialized. You see calamity, or some sort of crisis, and you are afraid. You do not share my misery and you provide me with no assistance.

הֲכִי אָמַרְתִּי הָבוּ לִי ומִכֹּחֲכֶם שִׁחֲדוּ בַעֲדִי

Did I say: Give me, or did I ask: Pay a bribe, or a ransom, for me from your wealth, your possessions?

ומַלְּטוּנִי מִיַּד־צָר וּמִיַּד עָרִיצִים תִּפְדּוּנִי

Or did I expect you to rescue me from the hand of an enemy, or to redeem me, save me, from the hand of the mighty? I did not ask for anything from you. Why, then, have you renounced me?

הוֹרוּנִי וַאֲנִי אַחֲרִישׁ וּמַה־ שָּׁגִיתִי הָבִינוּ לִי

If you wish to teach me, then indeed teach me, and I will be silent; explain to me what I have done wrong.

מַה־נִּמְרְצוּ אִמְרֵי־יֹשֶׁר ומַה־יּוֹכִיחַ הוֹכֵחַ מִכֶּם

How forceful are sayings of uprightness? But what rebuke is there from you? What reproach do you have for me?

הַלְהוֹכַח מִלִּים תַּחְשֹׁבוּ וּלְרוּחַ אִמְרֵי נוֹאָשׁ

Do you consider mere words to be a rebuke? Do you think that by merely stating words you are successfully offering a rebuke? In uttering empty words, are you not treating the statements of the despairing, my despair, as just wind?

אַף־עַל־יָתוֹם תַּפִּילוּ וְתִכְרוּ עַל־רֵיעֲכֶם

You would even fall upon an orphan, who is defenseless. Job compares the lack of regard for his despair in response to his situation to harming an orphan. And you would dig a pit for your friend, into which he would stumble.

וְעַתָּה הוֹאִילוּ פְנוּ־בִי וְעַל־פְּנֵיכֶם אִם־אֲכַזֵּב

It is likely that at this point Job’s friends turned their faces away from him. Therefore, Job calls out to them: Now therefore, if you have complaints against me, agree to look at me; to your faces I will not lie.

שֻׁבוּ־נָא אַל־תְּהִי עַוְלָה וְשֻׁבוּ עוֹד צִדְקִי־בָהּ

Job perhaps sees his friends preparing to leave. Therefore, he says to them: Come back, please; let there be no iniquity. Let me demonstrate that I have not sinned. Stay a while longer, as my justice is in it, my claim.

הֲיֵשׁ־בִּלְשׁוֹנִי עַוְלָה אִם־חִכִּי לֹא־יָבִין הַוּוֹת

Is there iniquity on my tongue? Doesn’t my palate, my mouth, my speech, discern disasters, the calamities that have befallen me?