Jó 30
Nu derimod ler de ad mig, Folk, der er yngre end jeg, hvis Fædre jeg fandt for ringe at sætte iblandt mine Hyrdehunde.
Og hvad skulde jeg med deres Hænders Kraft? Deres Ungdomskraft har de mistet,
tørrede hen af Trang og Sult. De afgnaver Ørk og Ødemark
og plukker Melde ved Krattet, Gyvelrødder er deres Brød.
Fra Samfundet drives de bort, som ad Tyve råbes der efter dem.
De bor i Kløfter, fulde af Rædsler, i Jordens og Klippernes Huler.
De brøler imellem Buske, i Tornekrat kommer de sammen,
en dum og navnløs Æt, de joges med Hug af Lande.
Men nu er jeg Hånsang for dem, jeg er dem et Samtaleemne;
de afskyr mig, holder sig fra mig, nægter sig ikke af spytte ad mig.
Thi han løste min Buestreng, ydmyged mig, og foran mig kasted de Tøjlerne af.
Til højre rejser sig Ynglen, Fødderne slår de fra mig, bygger sig Ulykkesveje imod mig
min Sti har de opbrudt, de hjælper med til mit Fald, og ingen hindrer dem i det;
de kommer som gennem et gabende Murbrud, vælter sig frem under Ruiner,
Rædsler har vendt sig imod mig; min Værdighed joges bort som af Storm, min Lykke svandt som en Sky.
Min Sjæl opløser sig i mig; Elendigheds Dage har ramt mig:
Natten borer i mine Knogler, aldrig blunder de nagende Smerter.
Med vældig Kraft vanskabes mit Kød, det hænger om mig, som var det min Kjortel.
Han kasted mig ud i Dynd, jeg er blevet som Støv og Aske.
Jeg skriger til dig, du svarer mig ikke, du står der og ænser mig ikke;
grum er du blevet imod mig, forfølger mig med din vældige Hånd.
Du løfter og vejrer mig hen i Stormen, og dens Brusen gennemryster mig;
thi jeg ved, du fører mig hjem til Døden, til det Hus, hvor alt levende samles.
Dog, mon den druknende ej rækker Hånden ud og råber om Hjælp, når han går under?
Mon ikke jeg græder over den, som havde det hårdt, sørgede ikke min Sjæl for den fattiges Skyld?
Jeg biede på Lykke, men Ulykke kom, jeg håbed på Lys, men Mørke kom;
ustandseligt koger det i mig, Elendigheds Dage traf mig;
trøstesløs går jeg i Sorg, i Forsamlingen rejser jeg mig og råber;
Sjakalernes Broder blev jeg, Strudsenes Fælle.
Min Hud er sort, falder af, mine Knogler brænder af Hede;
min Citer er blevet til Sorg, min Fløjte til hulkende Gråd!
But now {they that are} younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock. {younger...: Heb. of fewer days than I}
Yea, whereto {might} the strength of their hands {profit} me, in whom old age was perished?
For want and famine {they were} solitary; fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste. {solitary: or, dark as the night} {in...: Heb. yesternight}
Who cut up mallows by the bushes, and juniper roots {for} their meat.
They were driven forth from among {men}, (they cried after them as {after} a thief;)
To dwell in the clifts of the valleys, {in} caves of the earth, and {in} the rocks. {caves: Heb. holes}
Among the bushes they brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together.
{They were} children of fools, yea, children of base men: they were viler than the earth. {base...: Heb. men of no name}
And now am I their song, yea, I am their byword.
They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face. {and...: Heb. and withhold not spittle from}
Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle before me.
Upon {my} right {hand} rise the youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction.
They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper.
They came {upon me} as a wide breaking in {of waters}: in the desolation they rolled themselves {upon me}.
Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud. {my soul: Heb. my principal one}
And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest.
By the great force {of my disease} is my garment changed: it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.
He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.
I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me {not}.
Thou art become cruel to me: with thy strong hand thou opposest thyself against me. {become...: Heb. turned to be cruel} {thy...: Heb. the strength of thy hand}
Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride {upon it}, and dissolvest my substance. {substance: or, wisdom}
For I know {that} thou wilt bring me {to} death, and {to} the house appointed for all living.
Howbeit he will not stretch out {his} hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction. {grave: Heb. heap}
Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was {not} my soul grieved for the poor? {in trouble: Heb. hard of day?}
When I looked for good, then evil came {unto me}: and when I waited for light, there came darkness.
My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me.
I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, {and} I cried in the congregation.
I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. {owls: or, ostriches}
My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.
My harp also is {turned} to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.