Job30

¹“But now they mock at me, men younger than I, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock.

²Indeed, what profit is the strength of their hands to me? Their vigor has perished.

³They are gaunt from want and famine, Fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste,

⁴Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And broom tree roots for their food.

⁵They were driven out from among men, They shouted at them as at a thief.

⁶They had to live in the clefts of the valleys, In caves of the earth and the rocks.

⁷Among the bushes they brayed, Under the nettles they nestled.

⁸They were sons of fools, Yes, sons of vile men; They were scourged from the land.

⁹“And now I am their taunting song; Yes, I am their byword.

¹⁰They abhor me, they keep far from me; They do not hesitate to spit in my face.

¹¹Because He has loosed my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off restraint before me.

¹²At my right hand the rabble arises; They push away my feet, And they raise against me their ways of destruction.

¹³They break up my path, They promote my calamity; They have no helper.

¹⁴They come as broad breakers; Under the ruinous storm they roll along.

¹⁵Terrors are turned upon me; They pursue my honor as the wind, And my prosperity has passed like a cloud.

¹⁶“And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; The days of affliction take hold of me.

¹⁷My bones are pierced in me at night, And my gnawing pains take no rest.

¹⁸By great force my garment is disfigured; It binds me about as the collar of my coat.

¹⁹He has cast me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes.

²⁰“I cry out to You, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You regard me.

²¹But You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You oppose me.

²²You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride on it; You spoil my success.

²³For I know that You will bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living.

²⁴“Surely He would not stretch out His hand against a heap of ruins, If they cry out when He destroys it.

²⁵Have I not wept for him who was in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor?

²⁶But when I looked for good, evil came to me; And when I waited for light, then came darkness.

²⁷My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest; Days of affliction confront me.

²⁸I go about mourning, but not in the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.

²⁹I am a brother of jackals, And a companion of ostriches.

³⁰My skin grows black and falls from me; My bones burn with fever.

³¹My harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the voice of those who weep.