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(But no sojourner had to lodge in the street, For I have opened my doors to the traveler);
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If I have covered my transgressions as Adam, By hiding my iniquity in my bosom,
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Because I feared the great multitude, And dreaded the contempt of families, So that I kept silence And did not go out of the door--
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Oh, that I had one to hear me! Here is my mark. Oh, that the Almighty would answer me, That my Prosecutor had written a book!
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Surely I would carry it on my shoulder, And bind it on me like a crown;
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I would declare to Him the number of my steps; Like a prince I would approach Him.
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"If my land cries out against me, And its furrows weep together;
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If I have eaten its fruit without money, Or caused its owners to lose their lives;
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Then let thistles grow instead of wheat, And weeds instead of barley." The words of Job are ended.