Job 30

¹But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, Whose fathers I disdained to set with the dogs of my flock. ²Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age is perished. ³They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation. ⁴They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; And the roots of the broom are their food. ⁵They are driven forth from the midst of men; They cry after them as after a thief; ⁶So that they dwell in frightful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks. ⁷Among the bushes they bray; Under the nettles they are gathered together. ⁸They are children of fools, yea, children of base men; They were scourged out of the land. ⁹And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them. ¹⁰They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, And spare not to spit in my face. ¹¹For he hath loosed his cord, and afflicted me; And they have cast off the bridle before me. ¹²Upon my right hand rise the rabble; They thrust aside my feet, And they cast up against me their ways of destruction. ¹³They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, Even men that have no helper. ¹⁴As through a wide breach they come: In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me.

¹⁵Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud. ¹⁶And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me. ¹⁷In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the pains that gnaw me take no rest. ¹⁸By God's great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat. ¹⁹He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes. ²⁰I cry unto thee, and thou dost not answer me: I stand up, and thou gazest at me. ²¹Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me. ²²Thou liftest me up to the wind, thou causest me to ride upon it; And thou dissolvest me in the storm. ²³For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living. ²⁴Howbeit doth not one stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? ²⁵Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy? ²⁶When I looked for good, then evil came; And when I waited for light, there came darkness. ²⁷My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me. ²⁸I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. ²⁹I am a brother to jackals, And a companion to ostriches. ³⁰My skin is black, and falleth from me, And my bones are burned with heat. ³¹Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.