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 people much younger than me laugh at me; people whose fathers I would not put to work with my sheepdogs.
2 Also — the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.
They are too weak to be any use to me; they're all worn-out.
3 With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,
Thin through hunger and want, they try to eat the dry ground in the dark, desolate wilderness.
4 Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.
There they pick desert herbs and the leaves of bushes, and eat the roots of broom trees.
5 From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),
They were driven out of the community.
6 In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.
People shouted after them as if they were thieves. They have to live in dangerous ravines, in caves and among the rocks.
7 Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.
They shout out like animals among the bushes; they huddle together in the weeds for shelter.
8 Sons of folly — even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.
They are foolish, nameless people that have been driven from the land.
9 And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.
Yet now they mock me in their songs; I have become a joke to them!
10 They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.
They despise and shun me; they don't hesitate to spit in my face.
11 Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.
God has made my bowstring loose and humbled me.
12 On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.
The rabble rise up against me, they send me running; like a city under siege they devise ways to destroy me.
13 They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, 'He hath no helper.'
They cut off my way of escape; they bring about my downfall and do this without anyone's help.
14 As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.
They come in through a wide breach; they rush in as the wall comes tumbling down.
15 He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.
Terrors overcome me; my honor is blown away by the wind; my salvation vanishes like a cloud.
16 And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
And now my life is ebbing away; every day despair grips me.
17 At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.
At night my bones are in agony; the pain gnaws at me and never stops.
18 By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.
God grabs me roughly by my clothes; he pulls me by the collar of my shirt.
19 Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
He has thrown me in the mud; he has humbled me like dust and ashes.
20 I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.
God, I cry to you but you don't answer; I stand before you, but you don't even notice me.
21 Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppressest me.
You have turned cruel to me; you use your power to make me suffer.
22 Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest — Thou levellest me.
You pick me up and blow me along in the wind; tossing me about in the whirlwind.
23 For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.
I know you're taking me to my death, to the place where all the living go.
24 Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.
Who would want to kick a man when he is down, when they cry for help in their time of trouble?
25 Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.
Didn't I weep for those having hard times? Didn't I grieve at what the poor suffered?
26 When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.
But when I looked for good, only evil came, and when I waited for the light, all that came was darkness.
27 My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.
Inside I am in turmoil, it never stops; I face days of despair.
28 Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.
I am so depressed; seeing the sun doesn't help. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.
I am like a brother to the jackals, a companion to owls.
30 My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,
My skin turns black on me; and my bones burn within me.
31 And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.
My lyre only plays sad songs, and my pipe is the voice of those who weep.
