Job 30:1-31 CSB

[1] But now they mock me, men younger than I am, whose fathers I would have refused to put with my sheep dogs. [2] What use to me was the strength of their hands? Their vigor had left them. [3] Emaciated from poverty and hunger, they gnawed the dry land, the desolate wasteland by night. [4] They plucked mallow among the shrubs, and the roots of the broom tree were their food. [5] They were banished from human society; people shouted at them as if they were thieves. [6] They are living on the slopes of the wadis, among the rocks and in holes in the ground. [7] They bray among the shrubs; they huddle beneath the thistles. [8] Foolish men, without even a name. They were forced to leave the land. [9] Now I am mocked by their songs; I have become an object of scorn to them. [10] They despise me and keep their distance from me; they do not hesitate to spit in my face. [11] Because God has loosened my bowstring and oppressed me, they have cast off restraint in my presence. [12] The rabble rise up at my right; they trap my feet and construct their siege ramp against me. [13] They tear up my path; they contribute to my destruction, without anyone to help them. [14] They advance as through a gaping breach; they keep rolling in through the ruins. [15] Terrors are turned loose against me; they chase my dignity away like the wind, and my prosperity has passed by like a cloud. [16] Now my life is poured out before me, and days of suffering have seized me. [17] Night pierces my bones, but my gnawing pains never rest. [18] My clothing is distorted with great force; he chokes me by the neck of my garment. [19] He throws me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes. [20] I cry out to you for help, but you do not answer me; when I stand up, you merely look at me. [21] You have turned against me with cruelty; you harass me with your strong hand. [22] You lift me up on the wind and make me ride it; you scatter me in the storm. [23] Yes, I know that you will lead me to death- the place appointed for all who live. [24] Yet no one would stretch out his hand against a ruined person when he cries out to him for help because of his distress. [25] Have I not wept for those who have fallen on hard times? Has my soul not grieved for the needy? [26] But when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, darkness came. [27] I am churning within and cannot rest; days of suffering confront me. [28] I walk about blackened, but not by the sun. I stood in the assembly and cried out for help. [29] I have become a brother to jackals and a companion of ostriches. [30] My skin blackens and flakes off, and my bones burn with fever. [31] My lyre is used for mourning and my flute for the sound of weeping.