Job 30
1 But now those who are younger than I make sport of me; those whose fathers I would not have put with the dogs of my flocks.
But now people much younger than me laugh at me; people whose fathers I would not put to work with my sheepdogs.
2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.
They are too weak to be any use to me; they're all worn-out.
3 They are wasted for need of food, biting the dry earth; their only hope of life is in the waste land.
Thin through hunger and want, they try to eat the dry ground in the dark, desolate wilderness.
4 They are pulling off the salt leaves from the brushwood, and making a meal of roots.
There they pick desert herbs and the leaves of bushes, and eat the roots of broom trees.
5 They are sent out from among their townsmen, men are crying after them as thieves
They were driven out of the community.
6 They have to get a resting-place in the hollows of the valleys, in holes of the earth and rocks.
People shouted after them as if they were thieves. They have to live in dangerous ravines, in caves and among the rocks.
7 They make noises like asses among the brushwood; they get together under the thorns.
They shout out like animals among the bushes; they huddle together in the weeds for shelter.
8 They are sons of shame, and of men without a name, who have been forced out of the land.
They are foolish, nameless people that have been driven from the land.
9 And now I have become their song, and I am a word of shame to them.
Yet now they mock me in their songs; I have become a joke to them!
10 I am disgusting to them; they keep away from me, and put marks of shame on me.
They despise and shun me; they don't hesitate to spit in my face.
11 For he has made loose the cord of my bow, and put me to shame; he has sent down my flag to the earth before me.
God has made my bowstring loose and humbled me.
12 The lines of his men of war put themselves in order, and make high their ways of destruction against me:
The rabble rise up against me, they send me running; like a city under siege they devise ways to destroy me.
13 They have made waste my roads, with a view to my destruction; his bowmen come round about me;
They cut off my way of escape; they bring about my downfall and do this without anyone's help.
14 As through a wide broken place in the wall they come on, I am overturned by the shock of their attack.
They come in through a wide breach; they rush in as the wall comes tumbling down.
15 Fears have come on me; my hope is gone like the wind, and my well-being like a cloud.
Terrors overcome me; my honor is blown away by the wind; my salvation vanishes like a cloud.
16 But now my soul is turned to water in me, days of trouble overtake me:
And now my life is ebbing away; every day despair grips me.
17 The flesh is gone from my bones, and they give me no rest; there is no end to my pains.
At night my bones are in agony; the pain gnaws at me and never stops.
18 With great force he takes a grip of my clothing, pulling me by the neck of my coat.
God grabs me roughly by my clothes; he pulls me by the collar of my shirt.
19 Truly God has made me low, even to the earth, and I have become like dust.
He has thrown me in the mud; he has humbled me like dust and ashes.
20 You give no answer to my cry, and take no note of my prayer.
God, I cry to you but you don't answer; I stand before you, but you don't even notice me.
21 You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
You have turned cruel to me; you use your power to make me suffer.
22 Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
You pick me up and blow me along in the wind; tossing me about in the whirlwind.
23 For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
I know you're taking me to my death, to the place where all the living go.
24 Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
Who would want to kick a man when he is down, when they cry for help in their time of trouble?
25 Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
Didn't I weep for those having hard times? Didn't I grieve at what the poor suffered?
26 For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
But when I looked for good, only evil came, and when I waited for the light, all that came was darkness.
27 My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
Inside I am in turmoil, it never stops; I face days of despair.
28 I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
I am so depressed; seeing the sun doesn't help. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
I am like a brother to the jackals, a companion to owls.
30 My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
My skin turns black on me; and my bones burn within me.
31 And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
My lyre only plays sad songs, and my pipe is the voice of those who weep.
