Job 30
1 “But now those who are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I considered unworthy to put with my sheep dogs.
Fe itsikihan-jaiko henaneo, ie tsy ho nimeiko hindrezan-droae’ iareo o amboan’ añondrikoo.
2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me, men in whom ripe age has perished?
Eka! hataoko ino’ ty herin-taña’ iareo? Ie fa modo ty hagañ’oza’ iareo?
3 They are gaunt from lack and famine. They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.
Miheahea naho poie’e vaho saliko iereo, draote’ iereo ty tane kànkañe ie nimontoñe naho tanan-taolo te omale.
4 They pluck salt herbs by the bushes. The roots of the broom tree are their food.
Tsindrohe’ iereo ty aña-mafaitse miharo vahon-tsoy, fihina’iareo ty vahan-jañapoly.
5 They are driven out from amongst men. They cry after them as after a thief,
Sinoik’ an-drolongo’e iareo, nikoraheñe hoe t’ie malaso.
6 so that they live in frightful valleys, and in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
Aa le mimoneñe am-bavatane mampangebahebak’ ao iereo, an-dakatom-bato naho an-kadahan-tane ao.
7 They bray amongst the bushes. They are gathered together under the nettles.
Mikoaike boak’an-drongoñe ao, mihimpok’ añ’antak’ ao.
8 They are children of fools, yes, children of wicked men. They were flogged out of the land.
Anan-dagola, anake po-tahinañe, nasiotsiotse amy taney.
9 “Now I have become their song. Yes, I am a byword to them.
Bekobekoe’ iareo raho henaneo toe fandrabioña’ iareo.
10 They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, and don’t hesitate to spit in my face.
Heje’ iereo vintañe, ihankaña’ iareo, tsy apo’ iareo ty mandrora an-tareheko.
11 For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me; and they have thrown off restraint before me.
Amy te navotso’e ty tàlem-pale’e le nitrofahe’e raho, vaho ahifi’ iereo laboridy te miatrek’ ahy.
12 On my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet. They cast their ways of destruction up against me.
Mitroatse an-kavanako eo o tora’eo; fehefehè’ iereo o tombokoo vaho atroa’ iareo amako ty satam- pandrotsaha’ iareo.
13 They mar my path. They promote my destruction without anyone’s help.
Trobotroboe’ iereo o lalakoo, indrà’ iareo amako o feh’ ohatseo, ndra t’ie tsy amam-pañolotse.
14 As through a wide breach they come. They roll themselves in amid the ruin.
Mizilike hoe mb’an-jeba’e mitañataña ao iareo; Iboroboñafa’ iareo i rinotsakey le mikidiadia’ mb’etoy.
15 Terrors have turned on me. They chase my honour as the wind. My welfare has passed away as a cloud.
Natolik’ amako o fampirevendreveñañeo; heañe’ iereo hoe tioke ty asiko; fa nihelañe añe hoe rahoñe ty fandrombahako.
16 “Now my soul is poured out within 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 In the night season my bones are pierced in me, and the pains that gnaw me take no rest.
Tsipohe’e haleñe o taolakoo, vaho tsy mitofa ty fikotekotehañe ahy.
18 My garment is disfigured by great force. It binds me about as the collar of my tunic.
Mampiroñaroña o sikikoo i fañindra’e mafey vaho vihine’e raho manahake i kolen’ akanjokoy.
19 He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.
Fa navokovoko’e am-potak’ ao raho, le ninjare hoe lavenoke naho deboke.
20 I cry to you, and you do not answer me. I stand up, and you gaze at me.
Mikaik’ imba ama’o raho fe tsy toiñe’o; miongake fe angarefa’o.
21 You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me.
Toe mpampisoañe ahy rehe: an-kaozaram-pità’o ty isareraha’o.
22 You lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it. You dissolve me in the storm.
Ampionjone’o mb’amy tiokey mb’eo, naho ampiningira’o, fe atrana’o amy tio-beiy.
23 For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living.
Apotako t’ie hasese’o mb’an-kavetrahañe mb’eo, mb’añ’anjombam-pifañaoña’ ze kila veloñe.
24 “However doesn’t one stretch out a hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help?
Aa tsy hañity ty fità’e hao ty am-botrim-piantoañe eo? tsy hikoik’ imba hao t’ie mizò hekoheko?
25 Didn’t I weep for him who was in trouble? Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy?
Tsy nitañiako hao ty nian-kòheke? Tsy nampihontoke ty troko hao o rarakeo?
26 When I looked for good, then evil came. When I waited for light, darkness came.
Zaho nitama hasoa, pok’eo ty raty; ie nandiñe hazavàñe nihohohe’ ty ieñe.
27 My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest. Days of affliction have come on me.
Mikokèntrekokèntreñe ty añovako ao le tsy mitofa; atreatrén-tsan-kasotriañe.
28 I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
Mijarabajaraba añ’ ieñe ao tsy amam-panjirik’ andro, miongak’ am-pivory naho mikaik’ imba.
29 I am a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches.
Fa rahalahim-panaloke raho, rañe’ o voron-tsatrañeo.
30 My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burnt with heat.
Mikò-mainte amako ty holiko, mitsovovoke o taolakoo ami’ty hasilo’e.
31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
Aa le mivali-ko feon-kontoke ty marovaniko, naho feom-pandala ty soliko
