1I am weary of my life;
I will give free expression to my complaint;
I will speak in the bitterness of my soul.

2I will say to God, 'Do not merely condemn me;
show me why you accuse me.

3Is it good to you that you should oppress me,
to despise the work of your hands
while you smile on the plans of the wicked?

4Do you have eyes of flesh?
Do you see like a man sees?

5Are your days like the days of mankind
or your years like the years of people,

6that you inquire after my iniquity
and search after my sin,

7although you know I am not guilty
and there is no one who can rescue me from your hand?

8Your hands have framed and fashioned me
together round about, yet you are destroying me.

9Call to mind, I beg you, that you have fashioned me like clay;
will you bring me into dust again?

10Have you not poured me out like milk
and curdled me like cheese?

11You have clothed me with skin and flesh
and knit me together with bones and sinews.

12You have granted me life and covenant faithfulness;
your help has guarded my spirit.

13Yet these things you hid in your heart—
I know that this is what you were thinking:

14that if I sinned, you would notice it;
you would not acquit me of my iniquity.

15If I have acted wickedly, woe to me;
and even if I acted righteously,
I could not lift up my head,
since I am filled with disgrace—
see my affliction!

16
If my head were lifted up,
you would stalk me like a lion;
and again you would show yourself with marvellous acts of power against me.

17You bring new witnesses against me
and increase your anger against me;
you attack me with fresh armies.

18Why, then, have you brought me out of the womb?
I wish I had given up my spirit and that no eye had ever seen me.

19I would have been as though I had never existed;
I would have been carried from the womb to the grave.

20Are not my days only a few? Stop then,
let me alone, so that I may have a little rest

21before I go from where I will not return,
to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death,

22the land that is as dark as midnight,
the land of the shadow of death, without any order,
where the light is like midnight.'”