Job said:

Pity me, pity me, you, my friends,
  for the hand of God has struck me.
Why do you hound me down like God,
  will you never have enough of my flesh?

Ah, would that these words of mine were written down,
  inscribed on some monument
with iron chisel and engraving tool,
  cut into the rock for ever.
This I know: that my Avenger lives,
  and he, the Last, will take his stand on earth.
After my awaking, he will set me close to him,
  and from my flesh I shall look on God.
He whom I shall see will take my part:
  these eyes will gaze on him and find him not aloof.

I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

O Lord, hear my voice when I call;
  have mercy and answer.
Of you my heart has spoken:
  ‘Seek his face.’

I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

It is your face, O Lord, that I seek;
  hide not your face.
Dismiss not your servant in anger;
  you have been my help.

I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness
  in the land of the living.
Hope in him, hold firm and take heart.
  Hope in the Lord!

I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.

Alleluia, alleluia!
Man does not live on bread alone,
but on every word that comes from the mouth of God.
Alleluia!