Job continued his discourse:

“As surely as God lives, who has deprived me of justice—the Almighty, who has embittered my soul—

as long as my breath is still within me and the breath of God remains in my nostrils,

my lips will not speak wickedness, and my tongue will not utter deceit.

I will never say that you are right; I will maintain my integrity until I die.

I will cling to my righteousness and never let go. As long as I live, my conscience will not accuse me.

May my enemy be like the wicked and my opponent like the unjust.

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

Will God hear his cry when distress comes upon him?

Will he delight in the Almighty? Will he call upon God at all times?

I will instruct you in the power of God. I will not conceal the ways of the Almighty.

Surely all of you have seen it for yourselves. Why then do you keep up this empty talk?

This is the wicked man’s portion from God—the heritage the ruthless receive from the Almighty.

Though his sons are many, they are destined for the sword; and his offspring will never have enough food.

His survivors will be buried by the plague, and their widows will not weep for them.

Though he heaps up silver like dust and piles up a wardrobe like clay,

what he lays up, the righteous will wear, and his silver will be divided by the innocent.

The house he built is like a moth’s cocoon, like a hut set up by a watchman.

He lies down wealthy, but will do so no more; when he opens his eyes, all is gone.

Terrors overtake him like a flood; a tempest sweeps him away in the night.

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

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

It claps its hands at him and hisses him out of his place.