Job 30:1-31 NASB

[1] “But now those who are younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I refused to put with the dogs of my flock. [2] “Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them. [3] “From poverty and famine they are gaunt, They who gnaw at the dry ground by night in waste and desolation, [4] Who pluck saltweed by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub. [5] “They are driven from the community; They shout against them as against a thief, [6] So that they live on the slopes of ravines, In holes in the ground and among the rocks. [7] “Among the bushes they cry out; Under the weeds they are gathered together. [8] “Worthless fellows, even those without a name, They were cast out from the land. [9] “And now I have become their taunt, And I have become a byword to them. [10] “They loathe me and stand aloof from me, And they do not refrain from spitting in my face. [11] “Because He has undone my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off the bridle before me. [12] “On the right hand their mob arises; They push aside my feet and pile up their ways of destruction against me. [13] “They break up my path, They promote my destruction; No one restrains them. [14] “As through a wide gap they come, Amid the storm they roll on. [15] “Sudden terrors are turned upon me; They chase away my dignity like the wind, And my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. [16] “And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of misery have seized me. [17] “At night it pierces my bones within me, And my gnawing pains do not rest. [18] “By a great force my garment is distorted; It ties me up like the collar of my coat. [19] “He has thrown me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes. [20] “I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You turn Your attention against me. [21] “You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You persecute me. [22] “You lift me up to the wind and make me ride it; And You dissolve me in a storm. [23] “For I know that You will bring me to death, And to the house of meeting for all living. [24] “Yet does one in a heap of ruins not reach out with his hand, Or in his disaster does he not cry out for help? [25] “Have I not wept for the one whose life is hard? Was my soul not grieved for the needy? [26] “When I expected good, evil came; When I waited for light, darkness came. [27] “I am seething within and cannot rest; Days of misery confront me. [28] “I go about mourning without comfort; I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help. [29] “I have become a brother to jackals, And a companion of ostriches. [30] “My skin turns black on me, And my bones burn with fever. [31] “Therefore my harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the sound of those who weep.