As a lion thou huntest me, who am soaked in misery,
And ever showest thyself marvellous[211] against me!
While I live, thou smitest me ever anew,
And lettest thy wrath wax great against me.
LXXXVIII
Wherefore, then, didst thou bring me out of the womb?
Would I had then given up the ghost, and no eye had seen me!
I should now be as though I had never been;
I had been borne from the womb to the grave.
LXXXIX
Are not the days of my life but few,
So that he might let me be, while I take heart a little
Before I depart whence I shall not return,
To the land of darkness and of gloom?
XC
ZOPHAR:
Shall the multitude of words be left unanswered?
And shall the prattler[212] be deemed in the right?
Should men hold their peace at thy babbling?
And when thou jeerest, shall none make thee ashamed?
XCI
But oh that God would speak,
And open his lips against thee,
And that he would show thee the secrets of wisdom
That they are as marvels to the understanding!