Job 5 in plain modern English. New Ground English Translation.

Go ahead and call out. Is there anyone who will answer you? Which of God's own will you turn to?

Resentment kills a fool. Envy is the death of the simple.

I have watched a fool put down roots — and all at once I called his household cursed.

His children are nowhere near safety. They are crushed in the town gate, and nobody steps in to save them.

The hungry eat his harvest — they take it right out from behind the thorns — and the thirsty gulp down everything he owns.

Harm does not come up out of the dust. Trouble does not sprout from the ground.

A human being is born to trouble the way sparks fly upward.

If I were you, I would go looking for God. I would lay my case in front of him.

He does great things that nobody can search out, wonders past counting.

He sends rain across the face of the earth and lets water loose over the open fields.

He sets the low ones up high, and the ones in mourning are lifted into safety.

He breaks up the schemes of clever men, so their hands never finish anything.

He traps the wise in their own cleverness, and the plans of twisted men collapse in a hurry.

In broad daylight they run into darkness. At noon they grope around like it is night.

He rescues the poor from the sword of their mouth, out of the grip of the strong.

So the powerless have hope, and injustice shuts her mouth.

Look — life is good for the person God corrects. So do not shove away the correction of the Almighty.

He is the one who hurts you and bandages you. He wounds, and his own hands do the healing.

Out of six troubles he will pull you. In the seventh, no harm will touch you.

In famine he will buy you back from death, and in war, from the edge of the sword.

You will be hidden from the whip of the tongue, and when ruin comes you will have no reason to be afraid of it.

You will laugh at ruin and hunger, and the wild animals will not frighten you.

You will have an agreement with the stones of your field, and the wild animals will be at peace with you.

You will know your tent is at peace. You will look over everything you own and find nothing missing.

You will know your children will be many, your descendants like grass across the ground.

You will come to your grave still strong, the way a sheaf is stacked in its own season.

Look — we have searched this out, and it holds. Now listen to it, and learn it for yourself.