Job 30:1-31 WEB

[1] “But now those who are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I considered unworthy to put with my sheep dogs. [2] Of what use is the strength of their hands to me, men in whom ripe age has perished? [3] They are gaunt from lack and famine. They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation. [4] They pluck salt herbs by the bushes. The roots of the broom tree are their food. [5] They are driven out from among men. They cry after them as after a thief, [6] so that they live in frightful valleys, and in holes of the earth and of the rocks. [7] They bray among the bushes. They are gathered together under the nettles. [8] They are children of fools, yes, children of wicked men. They were flogged out of the land. [9] “Now I have become their song. Yes, I am a byword to them. [10] They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, and don’t hesitate to spit in my face. [11] For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me; and they have thrown off restraint before me. [12] On my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet. They cast their ways of destruction up against me. [13] They mar my path. They promote my destruction without anyone’s help. [14] As through a wide breach they come. They roll themselves in amid the ruin. [15] Terrors have turned on me. They chase my honor as the wind. My welfare has passed away as a cloud. [16] “Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold of me. [17] In the night season my bones are pierced in me, and the pains that gnaw me take no rest. [18] My garment is disfigured by great force. It binds me about as the collar of my tunic. [19] He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes. [20] I cry to you, and you do not answer me. I stand up, and you gaze at me. [21] You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me. [22] You lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it. You dissolve me in the storm. [23] For I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living. [24] “However doesn’t one stretch out a hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? [25] Didn’t I weep for him who was in trouble? Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy? [26] When I looked for good, then evil came. When I waited for light, darkness came. [27] My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest. Days of affliction have come on me. [28] I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. [29] I am a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches. [30] My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat. [31] Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.