Job 30
1 But now they that are younger than I hold me in derision, Whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock.
Fe itsikihan-jaiko henaneo, ie tsy ho nimeiko hindrezan-droae’ iareo o amboan’ añondrikoo.
2 Of what use to me would be even the strength of their hands, To whom old age is lost?
Eka! hataoko ino’ ty herin-taña’ iareo? Ie fa modo ty hagañ’oza’ iareo?
3 By want and hunger they are famished; They gnaw the dry desert, The darkness of desolate wastes.
Miheahea naho poie’e vaho saliko iereo, draote’ iereo ty tane kànkañe ie nimontoñe naho tanan-taolo te omale.
4 They gather purslain among the bushes, And the root of the broom is their bread.
Tsindrohe’ iereo ty aña-mafaitse miharo vahon-tsoy, fihina’iareo ty vahan-jañapoly.
5 They are driven from the society of men; There is a cry after them as after a thief.
Sinoik’ an-drolongo’e iareo, nikoraheñe hoe t’ie malaso.
6 They dwell in gloomy valleys, In caves of the earth and in rocks.
Aa le mimoneñe am-bavatane mampangebahebak’ ao iereo, an-dakatom-bato naho an-kadahan-tane ao.
7 They bray among the bushes; Under the brambles are they stretched out.
Mikoaike boak’an-drongoñe ao, mihimpok’ añ’antak’ ao.
8 An impious and low-born race, They are beaten out of the land.
Anan-dagola, anake po-tahinañe, nasiotsiotse amy taney.
9 And now I am become their song; Yea, I am their by-word!
Bekobekoe’ iareo iraho henaneo toe fandrabioña’ iareo.
10 They abhor me, they stand aloof from me; They forbear not to spit before my face.
Heje’ iereo vintañe, ihankaña’ iareo, tsy apo’ iareo ty mandrora an-tareheko.
11 Yea, they let loose the reins, and humble me; They cast off the bridle before me.
Amy te navotso’e ty tàlem-pale’e le nitrofahe’e iraho, vaho ahifi’ iereo laboridy te miatrek’ ahy.
12 On my right hand riseth up the brood; They thrust away my feet; They cast up against me their destructive ways.
Mitroatse an-kavanako eo o tora’eo; fehefehè’ iereo o tombokoo vaho atroa’ iareo amako ty satam- pandrotsaha’ iareo.
13 They break up my path; They hasten my fall, —They who have no helper!
Trobotroboe’ iereo o lalakoo, indrà’ iareo amako o feh’ ohatseo, ndra t’ie tsy amam-pañolotse.
14 They come upon me as through a wide breach; Through the ruins they rush in upon me.
Mizilike hoe mb’an-jeba’e mitañataña ao iareo; Iboroboñafa’ iareo i rinotsakey le mikidiadia’ mb’etoy.
15 Terrors are turned against me; They pursue my prosperity like the wind, And my welfare passeth away like a cloud.
Natolik’ amako o fampirevendreveñañeo; heañe’ iereo hoe tioke ty asiko; fa nihelañe añe hoe rahoñe ty fandrombahako.
16 And now my soul poureth itself out upon me; Days of affliction have taken hold of me.
Ie henaneo, fa nadoañe amako ato ty fiaiko; fa mifelek’ ahy o andro nanotriañe ahikoo.
17 By night my bones are pierced; they are torn from me, And my gnawers take no rest.
Tsipohe’e haleñe o taolakoo, vaho tsy mitofa ty fikotekotehañe ahy.
18 Through the violence of my disease is my garment changed; It bindeth me about like the collar of my tunic.
Mampiroñaroña o sikikoo i fañindra’e mafey vaho vihine’e iraho manahake i kolen’ akanjokoy.
19 He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
Fa navokovoko’e am-potak’ ao iraho, le ninjare hoe lavenoke naho deboke.
20 I call upon Thee, but thou dost not hear me; I stand up before thee, but thou regardest me not.
Mikaik’ imba ama’o raho fe tsy toiñe’o; miongake fe angarefa’o.
21 Thou art become cruel to me; With thy strong hand dost thou lie in wait for me.
Toe mpampisoañe ahy irehe: an-kaozaram-pità’o ty isareraha’o.
22 Thou liftest me up, and causest me to ride upon the wind; Thou meltest me away in the storm.
Ampionjone’o mb’amy tiokey mb’eo, naho ampiningira’o, fe atrana’o amy tio-beiy.
23 I know that thou wilt bring me to death, To the place of assembly for all the living.
Apotako t’ie hasese’o mb’an-kavetrahañe mb’eo, mb’añ’anjombam-pifañaoña’ ze kila veloñe.
24 When He stretcheth out his hand, prayer availeth nothing; When He bringeth destruction, vain is the cry for help.
Aa tsy hañity ty fità’e hao ty am-botrim-piantoañe eo? tsy hikoik’ imba hao t’ie mizò hekoheko?
25 Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the poor?
Tsy nitañiako hao ty nian-kòheke? Tsy nampihontoke ty troko hao o rarakeo?
26 But when I looked for good, then evil came; When I looked for light, then came darkness.
Izaho nitama hasoa, pok’eo ty raty; ie nandiñe hazavàñe nihohohe’ ty ieñe.
27 My bowels boil, and have no rest; Days of anguish have come upon me.
Mikokèntrekokèntreñe ty añovako ao le tsy mitofa; atreatrén-tsan-kasotriañe.
28 I am black, but not by the sun; I stand up, and utter my cries in the congregation.
Mijarabajaraba añ’ ieñe ao tsy amam-panjirik’ andro, miongak’ am-pivory naho mikaik’ imba.
29 I am become a brother to jackals, And a companion to ostriches.
Fa rahalahim-panaloke iraho, rañe’ o voron-tsatrañeo.
30 My skin is black, and falleth from me, And my bones burn with heat.
Mikò-mainte amako ty holiko, mitsovovoke o taolakoo ami’ty hasilo’e.
31 My harp also is turned to mourning, And my pipe to notes of grief.
Aa le mivali-ko feon-kontoke ty marovaniko, naho feom-pandala ty soliko
