Job 21:25
And this `one' dieth with a bitter soul, And have not eaten with gladness.
And this `one' dieth with a bitter soul, And have not eaten with gladness.
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19And he hath been reproved With pain on his bed, And the strife of his bones `is' enduring.
20And his life hath nauseated bread, And his soul desirable food.
21His flesh is consumed from being seen, And high are his bones, they were not seen!
22And draw near to the pit doth his soul, And his life to those causing death.
23This `one' dieth in his perfect strength, Wholly at ease and quiet.
24His breasts have been full of milk, And marrow his bones doth moisten.
22Only -- his flesh for him is pained, And his soul for him doth mourn.'
17Also all his days in darkness he consumeth, and sadness, and wrath, and sickness abound.
20Why giveth He to the miserable light, and life to the bitter soul?
21Who are waiting for death, and it is not, And they seek it above hid treasures.
22Who are glad -- unto joy, They rejoice when they find a grave.
26Together -- on the dust they lie down, And the worm doth cover them over.
21For what `is' his delight in his house after him, And the number of his months cut off?
11And thou hast howled in thy latter end, In the consumption of thy flesh and thy food,
7A satiated soul treadeth down a honeycomb, And `to' a hungry soul every bitter thing `is' sweet.
18All food doth their soul abominate, And they come nigh unto the gates of death,
7My soul is refusing to touch! They `are' as my sickening food.
23For all his days are sorrows, and his travail sadness; even at night his heart hath not lain down; this also `is' vanity.
24There is nothing good in a man who eateth, and hath drunk, and hath shewn his soul good in his labour. This also I have seen that it `is' from the hand of God.
25For who eateth and who hasteth out more than I?
6And though he had lived a thousand years twice over, yet good he hath not seen; to the same place doth not every one go?
7All the labour of man `is' for his mouth, and yet the soul is not filled.
11His bones have been full of his youth, And with him on the dust it lieth down.
25The righteous is eating to the satiety of his soul, And the belly of the wicked lacketh!
19Drought -- also heat -- consume snow-waters, Sheol `those who' have sinned.
20Forget him doth the womb, Sweeten `on' him doth the worm, No more is he remembered, And broken as a tree is wickedness.
21Treating evil the barren `who' beareth not, And `to' the widow he doth no good,
2A man to whom God giveth wealth, and riches, and honour, and there is no lack to his soul of all that he desireth, and God giveth him not power to eat of it, but a stranger eateth it; this `is' vanity, and it `is' an evil disease.
3If a man doth beget a hundred, and live many years, and is great, because they are the days of his years, and his soul is not satisfied from the goodness, and also he hath not had a grave, I have said, `Better than he `is' the untimely birth.'
9Better have been the pierced of a sword Than the pierced of famine, For these flow away, pierced through, Without the increase of the field.
20For he hath not known ease in his belly. With his desirable thing he delivereth not himself.
21There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay.
32And he -- to the graves he is brought. And over the heap a watch is kept.
33Sweet to him have been the clods of the valley, And after him every man he draweth, And before him there is no numbering.
18He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
15His remnant in death are buried, And his widows do not weep.
7Nor do they deal out to them for mourning, To comfort him concerning the dead, Nor cause them to drink a cup of consolations For his father and for his mother.
19It cometh to the generation of his fathers, For ever they see not the light.
15He hath filled me with bitter things, He hath filled me `with' wormwood.
25For I have satiated the weary soul, And every grieved soul I have filled.'
2Better to go unto a house of mourning, Than to go unto a house of banqueting, For that is the end of all men, And the living layeth `it' unto his heart.
24Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.
14His food in his bowels is turned, The bitterness of asps `is' in his heart.
15And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.
20For he doth not much remember the days of his life, for God is answering through the joy of his heart.
19Rich he lieth down, and he is not gathered, His eyes he hath opened, and he is not.
11Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.
20Sheol and destruction are not satisfied, And the eyes of man are not satisfied.
25The desire of the slothful slayeth him, For his hands have refused to work.
30But -- each for his own iniquity doth die, Every man who is eating the unripe fruit, Blunted are his teeth.