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.
And now, laughed at me, Have the younger in days than I, Whose fathers I have loathed to set With the dogs of my flock.
2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.
Also — the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.
3 They are wasted for need of food, biting the dry earth; their only hope of life is in the waste land.
With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,
4 They are pulling off the salt leaves from the brushwood, and making a meal of roots.
Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.
5 They are sent out from among their townsmen, men are crying after them as thieves
From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),
6 They have to get a resting-place in the hollows of the valleys, in holes of the earth and rocks.
In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.
7 They make noises like asses among the brushwood; they get together under the thorns.
Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.
8 They are sons of shame, and of men without a name, who have been forced out of the land.
Sons of folly — even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.
9 And now I have become their song, and I am a word of shame to them.
And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.
10 I am disgusting to them; they keep away from me, and put marks of shame on me.
They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.
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.
Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.
12 The lines of his men of war put themselves in order, and make high their ways of destruction against me:
On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.
13 They have made waste my roads, with a view to my destruction; his bowmen come round about me;
They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, 'He hath no helper.'
14 As through a wide broken place in the wall they come on, I am overturned by the shock of their attack.
As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.
15 Fears have come on me; my hope is gone like the wind, and my well-being like a cloud.
He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.
16 But now my soul is turned to water in me, days of trouble overtake me:
And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
17 The flesh is gone from my bones, and they give me no rest; there is no end to my pains.
At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.
18 With great force he takes a grip of my clothing, pulling me by the neck of my coat.
By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.
19 Truly God has made me low, even to the earth, and I have become like dust.
Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
20 You give no answer to my cry, and take no note of my prayer.
I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.
21 You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppressest me.
22 Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest — Thou levellest me.
23 For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.
24 Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.
25 Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.
26 For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.
27 My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.
28 I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.
29 I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.
30 My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,
31 And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.
