| 1. | But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, Whose fathers I disdained to set with the dogs of my flock. |
| 2. | Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age is perished. |
| 3. | They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation. |
| 4. | They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; And the roots of the broom are their food. |
| 5. | They are driven forth from the midst `of men'; They cry after them as after a thief; |
| 6. | So that they dwell in frightful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks. |
| 7. | Among the bushes they bray; Under the nettles they are gathered together. |
| 8. | `They are' children of fools, yea, children of base men; They were scourged out of the land. |
| 9. | And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them. |
| 10. | They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, And spare not to spit in my face. |
| 11. | For he hath loosed his cord, and afflicted me; And they have cast off the bridle before me. |
| 12. | Upon my right hand rise the rabble; They thrust aside my feet, And they cast up against me their ways of destruction. |
| 13. | They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, `Even' men that have no helper. |
| 14. | As through a wide breach they come: In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves `upon me'. |
| 15. | Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud. |
| 16. | And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me. |
| 17. | In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the `pains' that gnaw me take no rest. |
| 18. | By `God's' great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat. |
| 19. | He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes. |
| 20. | I cry unto thee, and thou dost not answer me: I stand up, and thou gazest at me. |
| 21. | Thou art turned to be cruel to me; With the might of thy hand thou persecutest me. |
| 22. | Thou liftest me up to the wind, thou causest me to ride `upon it'; And thou dissolvest me in the storm. |
| 23. | For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living. |
| 24. | Howbeit doth not one stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? |
| 25. | Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy? |
| 26. | When I looked for good, then evil came; And when I waited for light, there came darkness. |
| 27. | My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me. |
| 28. | I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. |
| 29. | I am a brother to jackals, And a companion to ostriches. |
| 30. | My skin is black, `and falleth' from me, And my bones are burned with heat. |
| 31. | Therefore is my harp `turned' to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep. |