Job 30

But now, those younger in years scorn me, whose fathers I would not have seen fit to place with the dogs of my flock,

the strength of whose hands was nothing to me, and they were considered unworthy of life itself.

They were barren from poverty and hunger; they gnawed in solitude, layered with misfortune and misery.

And they chewed grass and the bark from trees, and the root of junipers was their food.

They took these things from the steep valleys, and when they discovered one of these things, they rushed to the others with a cry.

They lived in the parched desert and in caves underground or above the rocks.

They rejoiced among these kinds of things, and they considered it delightful to be under thorns.

These are the sons of foolish and base men, not even paying any attention to the land.

Now I become their song, and I have been made into their proverb.

They loathe me, and so they flee far from me, and they are not reluctant to spit in my face.

For he has opened his quiver and has afflicted me, and he has placed a bridle in my mouth.

Immediately, upon rising, my calamities rise up to the right. They have overturned my feet and have pressed me down along their way like waves.

They have diverted my journeys; they have waited to ambush me, and they have prevailed, and there was no one who might bring help.

They have rushed upon me, as when a wall is broken or a gate opened, and they have been pulled down into my miseries.

I have been reduced to nothing. You have taken away my desire like a wind, and my health has passed by like a cloud.

But now my soul withers within myself, and the days of affliction take hold of me.

At night, my bone is pierced with sorrows, and those who feed on me, do not sleep.

By the sheer number of them my clothing is worn away, and they have closed in on me like the collar of my coat.

I have been treated like dirt, and I have been turned into embers and ashes.

I cry to you, and you do not heed me. I stand up, and you do not look back at me.

You have changed me into hardness, and, with the hardness of your hand, you oppose me.

You have lifted me up, and, placing me as if on the wind, you have thrown me down powerfully.

I know that you will hand me over to death, where a home has been established for all the living.

Truly, then, you do not extend your hand in order to consume them, and if they fall down, you will save them.

Once, I wept over him who was afflicted, and my soul had compassion on the poor.

I expected good things, but evil things have come to me. I stood ready for light, yet darkness burst forth.

My insides have seethed, without any rest, for the days of affliction have prevented it.

I went forth mourning, without anger, and rising up, I cried out in confusion.

I was the brother of snakes, and the companion of ostriches.

My skin has become blackened over me, and my bones have dried up because of the heat.

My harp has been turned into mourning, and my pipes have been turned into a voice of weeping.