Job 27

And Job took up his discourse again:

“As surely as God lives, who has denied me justice, the Almighty, who has made my life bitter—

for while my spirit is still in me, and the breath from God is in my nostrils,

my lips will not speak wickedness, and my tongue will whisper no deceit.

I will never declare that you three are in the right; until I die, I will not set aside my integrity!

I will maintain my righteousness and never let it go; my conscience will not reproach me for as long as I live.

“May my enemy be like the wicked, my adversary like the unrighteous.

For what hope does the godless have when he is cut off, when God takes away his life?

Does God listen to his cry when distress overtakes him?

Will he find delight in the Almighty? Will he call out to God at all times?

I will teach you about the power of God; what is on the Almighty’s mind I will not conceal.

If you yourselves have all seen this, Why in the world do you continue this meaningless talk?

This is the portion of the wicked man allotted by God, the inheritance that evildoers receive from the Almighty.

If his children increase—it is for the sword! His offspring never have enough to eat.

Those who survive him are buried by the plague, and their widows do not mourn for them.

If he piles up silver like dust and stores up clothing like mounds of clay,

what he stores up a righteous man will wear, and an innocent man will inherit his silver.

The house he builds is as fragile as a moth’s cocoon, like a hut that a watchman has made.

He goes to bed wealthy, but will do so no more. When he opens his eyes, it is all gone.

Terrors overwhelm him like a flood; at night a whirlwind carries him off.

The east wind carries him away, and he is gone; it sweeps him out of his place.

It hurls itself against him without pity as he flees headlong from its power.

It claps its hands at him in derision and hisses him away from his place.