Job 30
1 Now those who are younger than I have nothing but mockery for me— these young men whose fathers I would have refused to allow to work beside the dogs of my flock.
But now, those younger in years scorn me, whose fathers I would not have seen fit to place with the dogs of my flock,
2 Indeed, the strength of their fathers' hands, how could it have helped me— men in whom the strength of their mature age had perished?
the strength of whose hands was nothing to me, and they were considered unworthy of life itself.
3 They were thin from poverty and hunger; they gnawed at the dry ground in the darkness of wilderness and desolation.
They were barren from poverty and hunger; they gnawed in solitude, layered with misfortune and misery.
4 They plucked saltwort and bushes' leaves; the roots of the broom tree were their food.
And they chewed grass and the bark from trees, and the root of junipers was their food.
5 They were driven out from among people who shouted after them as one would shout after a thief.
They took these things from the steep valleys, and when they discovered one of these things, they rushed to the others with a cry.
6 So they had to live in river valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
They lived in the parched desert and in caves underground or above the rocks.
7 Among the bushes they brayed like donkeys and they gathered together under the nettles.
They rejoiced among these kinds of things, and they considered it delightful to be under thorns.
8 They were the sons of fools, indeed, sons of nameless people! They were driven out of the land with whips.
These are the sons of foolish and base men, not even paying any attention to the land.
9 But now I have become the subject of their taunting song; I have become a byword for them.
Now I become their song, and I have been made into their proverb.
10 They abhor me and stand far off from me; they do not refrain from spitting in my face.
They loathe me, and so they flee far from me, and they are not reluctant to spit in my face.
11 For God has unstrung the string to my bow and afflicted me, and those who taunt me cast off restraint before my face.
For he has opened his quiver and has afflicted me, and he has placed a bridle in my mouth.
12 Upon my right hand rise the rabble; they drive me away and pile up against me their siege mounds.
Immediately, upon rising, my calamities rise up to the right. They have overturned my feet and have pressed me down along their way like waves.
13 They destroy my path; they push forward disaster for me, men who have no one to hold them back.
They have diverted my journeys; they have waited to ambush me, and they have prevailed, and there was no one who might bring help.
14 They come against me like an army through a wide hole in a city wall; in the midst of the destruction they roll themselves in on me.
They have rushed upon me, as when a wall is broken or a gate opened, and they have been pulled down into my miseries.
15 Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is driven away as if by the wind; my prosperity passes away as a cloud.
I have been reduced to nothing. You have taken away my desire like a wind, and my health has passed by like a cloud.
16 Now my life is pouring out from within me; many days of suffering have laid hold on me.
But now my soul withers within myself, and the days of affliction take hold of me.
17 In the night my bones in me are pierced; the pains that gnaw at me take no rest.
At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.
18 God's great force has seized my clothing; it wraps around me like the collar of my tunic.
By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.
19 He has thrown me into the mud; I have become like dust and ashes.
I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.
20 I cry to you, God, but you do not answer me; I stand up, and you merely look at me.
I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.
21 You have changed and become cruel to me; with the strength of your hand you persecute me.
You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.
22 You lift me up to the wind and cause it to drive me along; you throw me back and forth in a storm.
You have lifted me up, and, placing me as if on the wind, you have thrown me down powerfully.
23 For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all the living.
I know that you will hand me over to death, where a home has been established for all the living.
24 However, does no one reach out with his hand to beg for help when he falls? Does no one in trouble call out for help?
Truly, then, you do not extend your hand in order to consume them, and if they fall down, you will save them.
25 Did not I weep for him who was in trouble? Did I not grieve for the needy man?
Once, I wept over him who was afflicted, and my soul had compassion on the poor.
26 When I hoped for good, then evil came; when I waited for light, darkness came instead.
I expected good things, but evil things have come to me. I stood ready for light, yet darkness burst forth.
27 My heart is troubled and does not rest; days of affliction have come on me.
My insides have seethed, without any rest, for the days of affliction have prevented it.
28 I have gone about like one who was living in the dark, but not because of the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
I went forth mourning, without anger, and rising up, I cried out in confusion.
29 I am a brother to jackals, a companion of ostriches.
I was the brother of snakes, and the companion of ostriches.
30 My skin is black and falls away from me; my bones are burned with heat.
My skin has become blackened over me, and my bones have dried up because of the heat.
31 Therefore my harp is tuned for songs of mourning, my flute for the singing of those who wail.
My harp has been turned into mourning, and my pipes have been turned into a voice of weeping.
