Job 30
1 “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.
But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused—to set with the dogs of my flock.
2 Also—the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them old age has perished.
Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;
3 With want and with harsh famine, They are gnawing a dry place [in] the recent night, [In] desolation and ruin,
In want and hunger, they were lean, —who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!
4 Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And their food [is] root of broom trees.
Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;
5 They are cast out from the midst (They shout against them as a thief),
Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;
6 To dwell in a frightful place of valleys, Holes of earth and clefts.
In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;
7 They groan among shrubs, They are gathered together under nettles.
Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:
8 Sons of folly—even sons without name, They have been struck from the land.
Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.
9 And now, I have been their song, And I am to them for a byword.
But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;
10 They have detested me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.
They abhor me—have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld—spittle!
11 Because He loosed His cord and afflicts me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.
Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle—in my presence, cast they off;
12 A brood arises on the right hand, They have cast away my feet, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.
On my right hand, the young brood rose up, —My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;
13 They have broken down my path, They profit by my calamity: He has no helper.
They brake up my path, —My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;
14 They come as a wide breach, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.
As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.
15 He has turned terrors against me, It pursues my abundance as the wind, And as a thick cloud, My safety has passed away.
There are turned upon me terrors, —Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.
16 And now, in me my soul pours itself out, Days of affliction seize me.
Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:
17 [At] night my bone has been pierced in me, And my gnawing [pain] does not lie down.
Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, —and, my sinews, find no rest;
18 By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it girds me.
Most effectually, is my skin disfigured, —Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:
19 Casting me into mire, And I have become like dust and ashes.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry to You, And You do not answer me, I have stood, and You consider me.
I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;
21 You are turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Your hand, You oppress me.
Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;
22 You lift me up, You cause me to ride on the wind, And You melt—You level me.
Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;
23 For I have known You bring me back [to] death, And [to] the house appointed for all living.
For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.
24 Surely not against the heap Does He send forth the hand, Though they have safety in its ruin.
Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity—for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.
25 Did I not weep for him whose day is hard? My soul has grieved for the needy.
Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.
26 When I expected good, then comes evil, And I wait for light, and darkness comes.
Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;
27 My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Days of affliction have gone before me.
I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me—days of affliction;
28 I have gone mourning without the sun, I have risen, I cry in an assembly.
In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose—in the convocation, I cried out for help;
29 I have been a brother to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.
A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
30 My skin has been black on me, And my bone has burned from heat,
My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:
31 And my harp becomes mourning, And my pipe the sound of weeping.”
Thus is attuned to mourning—my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.
