17. Because with a tempest He bruiseth me, And hath multiplied my wounds for nought.
18. He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
19. If of power, lo, the Strong One; And if of judgment--who doth convene me?
20. If I be righteous, Mine mouth doth declare me wicked, Perfect I am! --it declareth me perverse.
21. Perfect I am! --I know not my soul, I despise my life.
22. It is the same thing, therefore I said, `The perfect and the wicked He is consuming.'
23. If a scourge doth put to death suddenly, At the trial of the innocent He laugheth.
24. Earth hath been given Into the hand of the wicked one. The face of its judges he covereth, If not--where, who [is] he?
25. My days have been swifter than a runner, They have fled, they have not seen good,
26. They have passed on with ships of reed, As an eagle darteth on food.
27. Though I say, `I forget my talking, I forsake my corner, and I brighten up!'
28. I have been afraid of all my griefs, I have known that Thou dost not acquit me.