Job 30

1 But now, those younger in years scorn me, whose fathers I would not have seen fit to place with the dogs of my flock,

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.

2 the strength of whose hands was nothing to me, and they were considered unworthy of life itself.

Indeed, the strength of their fathers' hands, how could it have helped me— men in whom the strength of their mature age had perished?

3 They were barren from poverty and hunger; they gnawed in solitude, layered with misfortune and misery.

They were thin from poverty and hunger; they gnawed at the dry ground in the darkness of wilderness and desolation.

4 And they chewed grass and the bark from trees, and the root of junipers was their food.

They plucked saltwort and bushes' leaves; the roots of the broom tree were their food.

5 They took these things from the steep valleys, and when they discovered one of these things, they rushed to the others with a cry.

They were driven out from among people who shouted after them as one would shout after a thief.

6 They lived in the parched desert and in caves underground or above the rocks.

So they had to live in river valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

7 They rejoiced among these kinds of things, and they considered it delightful to be under thorns.

Among the bushes they brayed like donkeys and they gathered together under the nettles.

8 These are the sons of foolish and base men, not even paying any attention to the land.

They were the sons of fools, indeed, sons of nameless people! They were driven out of the land with whips.

9 Now I become their song, and I have been made into their proverb.

But now I have become the subject of their taunting song; I have become a byword for them.

10 They loathe me, and so they flee far from me, and they are not reluctant to spit in my face.

They abhor me and stand far off from me; they do not refrain from spitting in my face.

11 For he has opened his quiver and has afflicted me, and he has placed a bridle in my mouth.

For God has unstrung the string to my bow and afflicted me, and those who taunt me cast off restraint before my face.

12 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.

Upon my right hand rise the rabble; they drive me away and pile up against me their siege mounds.

13 They have diverted my journeys; they have waited to ambush me, and they have prevailed, and there was no one who might bring help.

They destroy my path; they push forward disaster for me, men who have no one to hold them back.

14 They have rushed upon me, as when a wall is broken or a gate opened, and they have been pulled down into my miseries.

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.

15 I have been reduced to nothing. You have taken away my desire like a wind, and my health has passed by like a cloud.

Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is driven away as if by the wind; my prosperity passes away as a cloud.

16 But now my soul withers within myself, and the days of affliction take hold of me.

Now my life is pouring out from within me; many days of suffering have laid hold on me.

17 At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.

In the night my bones in me are pierced; the pains that gnaw at me take no rest.

18 By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.

God's great force has seized my clothing; it wraps around me like the collar of my tunic.

19 I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.

He has thrown me into the mud; I have become like dust and ashes.

20 I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.

I cry to you, God, but you do not answer me; I stand up, and you merely look at me.

21 You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.

You have changed and become cruel to me; with the strength of your hand you persecute me.

22 You have lifted me up, and, placing me as if on the wind, you have thrown me down powerfully.

You lift me up to the wind and cause it to drive me along; you throw me back and forth in a storm.

23 I know that you will hand me over to death, where a home has been established for all the living.

For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all the living.

24 Truly, then, you do not extend your hand in order to consume them, and if they fall down, you will save them.

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?

25 Once, I wept over him who was afflicted, and my soul had compassion on the poor.

Did not I weep for him who was in trouble? Did I not grieve for the needy man?

26 I expected good things, but evil things have come to me. I stood ready for light, yet darkness burst forth.

When I hoped for good, then evil came; when I waited for light, darkness came instead.

27 My insides have seethed, without any rest, for the days of affliction have prevented it.

My heart is troubled and does not rest; days of affliction have come on me.

28 I went forth mourning, without anger, and rising up, I cried out in confusion.

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.

29 I was the brother of snakes, and the companion of ostriches.

I am a brother to jackals, a companion of ostriches.

30 My skin has become blackened over me, and my bones have dried up because of the heat.

My skin is black and falls away from me; my bones are burned with heat.

31 My harp has been turned into mourning, and my pipes have been turned into a voice of weeping.

Therefore my harp is tuned for songs of mourning, my flute for the singing of those who wail.