Job 30
1 Nunc autem derident me iuniores tempore, quorum non dignabar patres ponere cum canibus gregis mei:
But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused—to set with the dogs of my flock.
2 Quorum virtus manuum mihi erat pro nihilo, et vita ipsa putabantur indigni.
Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;
3 Egestate et fame steriles, qui rodebant in solitudine, squallentes calamitate, et miseria.
In want and hunger, they were lean, —who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!
4 Et mandebant herbas, et arborum cortices, et radix iuniperorum erat cibus eorum.
Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;
5 Qui de convallibus ista rapientes, cum singula reperissent, ad ea cum clamore currebant.
Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;
6 In desertis habitabant torrentium, et in cavernis terræ, vel super glaream.
In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;
7 Qui inter huiuscemodi lætabantur, et esse sub sentibus delicias computabant.
Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:
8 Filii stultorum et ignobilium, et in terra penitus non parentes.
Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.
9 Nunc in eorum canticum versus sum, et factus sum eis in proverbium.
But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;
10 Abominantur me, et longe fugiunt a me, et faciem meam conspuere non verentur.
They abhor me—have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld—spittle!
11 Pharetram enim suam aperuit, et afflixit me, et frenum posuit in os meum.
Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle—in my presence, cast they off;
12 Ad dexteram orientis calamitates meæ illico surrexerunt: pedes meos subverterunt, et oppresserunt quasi fluctibus semitis suis.
On my right hand, the young brood rose up, —My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;
13 Dissipaverunt itinera mea, insidiati sunt mihi, et prævaluerunt, et non fuit qui ferret auxilium.
They brake up my path, —My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;
14 Quasi rupto muro, et aperta ianua, irruerunt super me, et ad meas miserias devoluti sunt.
As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.
15 Redactus sum in nihilum: abstulisti quasi ventus desiderium meum: et velut nubes pertransiit salus mea.
There are turned upon me terrors, —Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.
16 Nunc autem in memetipso marcescit anima mea, et possident me dies afflictionis.
Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:
17 Nocte os meum perforatur doloribus: et qui me comedunt, non dormiunt.
Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, —and, my sinews, find no rest;
18 In multitudine eorum consumitur vestimentum meum, et quasi capito tunicæ succinxerunt me.
Most effectually, is my skin disfigured, —Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:
19 Comparatus sum luto, et assimilatus sum favillæ et cineri.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 Clamo ad te, et non exaudis me: sto, et non respicis me.
I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;
21 Mutatus es mihi in crudelem, et in duritia manus tuæ adversaris mihi.
Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;
22 Elevasti me, et quasi super ventum ponens elisisti me valide.
Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;
23 Scio quia morti trades me, ubi constituta est domus omni viventi.
For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.
24 Verumtamen non ad consumptionem eorum emittis manum tuam: et si corruerint, ipse salvabis.
Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity—for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.
25 Flebam quondam super eo, qui afflictus erat, et compatiebatur anima mea pauperi.
Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.
26 Expectabam bona, et venerunt mihi mala: præstolabar lucem, et eruperunt tenebræ.
Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;
27 Interiora mea efferbuerunt absque ulla requie, prævenerunt me dies afflictionis.
I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me—days of affliction;
28 Mœrens incedebam, sine furore, consurgens, in turba clamabam.
In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose—in the convocation, I cried out for help;
29 Frater fui draconum, et socius struthionum.
A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
30 Cutis mea denigrata est super me, et ossa mea aruerunt præ caumate.
My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:
31 Versa est in luctum cithara mea, et organum meum in vocem flentium.
Thus is attuned to mourning—my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.
