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.

² Also — the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.

³ With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,

⁴ Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.

⁵ From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),

⁶ In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.

⁷ Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.

⁸ Sons of folly — even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.

⁹ And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.

¹⁰ They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.

¹¹ Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.

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.

¹³ They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, ‘He hath no helper.’

¹⁴ As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.

¹⁵ He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.

¹⁶ And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.

¹⁷ At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.

¹⁸ By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.

¹⁹ Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.

²⁰ I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.

²¹ Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppressest me.

²² Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest — Thou levellest me.

²³ For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.

²⁴ Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.

²⁵ Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.

²⁶ When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.

²⁷ My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.

²⁸ Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.

²⁹ A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.

³⁰ My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,

³¹ And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.