- "But now I am mocked by people younger than I, by young men whose fathers are not worthy to run with my sheepdogs.
- A lot of good they are to me— those worn-out wretches!
- They are gaunt with hunger and flee to the deserts, to desolate and gloomy wastelands.
- They pluck wild greens from among the bushes and eat from the roots of broom trees.
- They are driven from human society, and people shout at them as if they were thieves.
- So now they live in frightening ravines, in caves and among the rocks.
- They sound like animals howling among the bushes, huddled together beneath the nettles.
- They are nameless fools, outcasts from society.
- "And now they mock me with vulgar songs! They taunt me!
- They despise me and won't come near me, except to spit in my face.
- For God has cut my bowstring. He has humbled me, so they have thrown off all restraint.
- These outcasts oppose me to my face. They send me sprawling and lay traps in my path.
- They block my road and do everything they can to destroy me. They know I have no one to help me.
- They come at me from all directions. They jump on me when I am down.
- I live in terror now. My honor has blown away in the wind, and my prosperity has vanished like a cloud.
- "And now my life seeps away. Depression haunts my days.
- At night my bones are filled with pain, which gnaws at me relentlessly.
- With a strong hand, God grabs my shirt. He grips me by the collar of my coat.
- He has thrown me into the mud. I'm nothing more than dust and ashes.
- "I cry to you, O God, but you don't answer. I stand before you, but you don't even look.
- You have become cruel toward me. You use your power to persecute me.
- You throw me into the whirlwind and destroy me in the storm.
- And I know you are sending me to my death— the destination of all who live.
- "Surely no one would turn against the needy when they cry for help in their trouble.
- Did I not weep for those in trouble? Was I not deeply grieved for the needy?
- So I looked for good, but evil came instead. I waited for the light, but darkness fell.
- My heart is troubled and restless. Days of suffering torment me.
- I walk in gloom, without sunlight. I stand in the public square and cry for help.
- Instead, I am considered a brother to jackals and a companion to owls.
- My skin has turned dark, and my bones burn with fever.
- My harp plays sad music, and my flute accompanies those who weep.
Job 30
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