Job-30
v1
“But now they laugh at me, men who are younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock.
v2
What could I gain from the strength of their hands, men whose vigor is gone?
v3
Through want and hard hunger they gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation;
v4
they pick saltwort and the leaves of bushes, and the roots of the broom tree for their food.
v5
They are driven out from human company; they shout after them as after a thief.
v6
In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
v7
Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they huddle together.
v8
A senseless, a nameless brood, they have been whipped out of the land.
v9
“And now I have become their song; I am a byword to them.
v10
They abhor me; they keep aloof from me; they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me.
v11
Because God has loosed my cord and humbled me, they have cast off restraint in my presence.
v12
On my right hand the rabble rise; they push away my feet; they cast up against me their ways of destruction.
v13
They break up my path; they promote my calamity; they need no one to help them.
v14
As through a wide breach they come; amid the crash they roll on.
v15
Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.
v16
“And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me.
v17
The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.
v18
With great force my garment is disfigured; it binds me about like the collar of my tunic.
v19
God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
v20
I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand, and you only look at me.
v21
You have turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you persecute me.
v22
You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.
v23
For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for all living.
v24
“Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help?
v25
Did not I weep for him whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
v26
But when I hoped for good, evil came, and when I waited for light, darkness came.
v27
My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; days of affliction come to meet me.
v28
I go about darkened, but not by the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
v29
I am a brother of jackals and a companion of ostriches.
v30
My skin turns black and falls from me, and my bones burn with heat.
v31
My lyre is turned to mourning, and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.