1 Mas agora se riem de mim os de menos idade do que eu,
e cujos pais eu teria desdenhado
de pôr ao lado dos cães do meu rebanho.
2 De que também me serviria a força das suas mãos,
homens cujo vigor já pereceu?
3 De míngua e fome se debilitaram;
roem os lugares secos, desde muito em ruínas e desolados.
4 Apanham malvas e folhas dos arbustos
e se sustentam de raízes de zimbro.
5 Do meio dos homens são expulsos;
grita-se contra eles, como se grita atrás de um ladrão;
6 habitam nos desfiladeiros sombrios,
nas cavernas da terra e das rochas.
7 Bramam entre os arbustos e se ajuntam debaixo dos espinheiros.
8 São filhos de doidos, raça infame,
e da terra são escorraçados.
9 Mas agora sou a sua canção de motejo
e lhes sirvo de provérbio.
10 Abominam-me, fogem para longe de mim
e não se abstêm de me cuspir no rosto.
11 Porque Deus afrouxou a corda do meu arco e me oprimiu;
pelo que sacudiram de si o freio perante o meu rosto.
12 À direita se levanta uma súcia, e me empurra,
e contra mim prepara o seu caminho de destruição.
13 Arruínam a minha vereda,
promovem a minha calamidade;
gente para quem já não há socorro.
14 Vêm contra mim como por uma grande brecha
e se revolvem avante entre as ruínas.
15 Sobrevieram-me pavores,
como pelo vento é varrida a minha honra;
como nuvem passou a minha felicidade.
16 Agora, dentro de mim se me derrama a alma;
os dias da aflição se apoderaram de mim.
17 A noite me verruma os ossos e os desloca,
e não descansa o mal que me rói.
18 Pela grande violência do meu mal está desfigurada a minha veste,
mal que me cinge como a gola da minha túnica.
19 Deus, tu me lançaste na lama,
e me tornei semelhante ao pó e à cinza.
20 Clamo a ti, e não me respondes;
estou em pé, mas apenas olhas para mim.
21 Tu foste cruel comigo;
com a força da tua mão tu me combates.
22 Levantas-me sobre o vento e me fazes cavalgá-lo;
dissolves-me no estrondo da tempestade.
23 Pois eu sei que me levarás à morte
e à casa destinada a todo vivente.
24 De um montão de ruínas não estenderá o homem a mão
e na sua desventura não levantará um grito por socorro?
25 Acaso, não chorei sobre aquele que atravessava dias difíceis
ou não se angustiou a minha alma pelo necessitado?
26 Aguardava eu o bem, e eis que me veio o mal;
esperava a luz, veio-me a escuridão.
27 O meu íntimo se agita sem cessar;
e dias de aflição me sobrevêm.
28 Ando de luto, sem a luz do sol;
levanto-me na congregação e clamo por socorro.
29 Sou irmão dos chacais
e companheiro de avestruzes.
30 Enegrecida se me cai a pele,
e os meus ossos queimam em febre.
31 Por isso, a minha harpa se me tornou em prantos de luto,
e a minha flauta, em voz dos que choram.
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.
1 "But now they mock me, men younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to put with my sheep dogs.
2 Of what use was the strength of their hands to me, since their vigor had gone from them?
3 Haggard from want and hunger, they roamed "the parched land in desolate wastelands at night.
4 In the brush they gathered salt herbs, and their food "was the root of the broom bush.
5 They were banished from human society, shouted at as if they were thieves.
6 They were forced to live in the dry stream beds, among the rocks and in holes in the ground.
7 They brayed among the bushes and huddled in the undergrowth.
8 A base and nameless brood, they were driven out of the land.
9 "And now those young men mock me in song; I have become a byword among them.
10 They detest me and keep their distance; they do not hesitate to spit in my face.
11 Now that God has unstrung my bow and afflicted me, they throw off restraint in my presence.
12 On my right the tribe "attacks; they lay snares for my feet, they build their siege ramps against me.
13 They break up my road; they succeed in destroying me. 'No one can help him,' they say.
14 They advance as through a gaping breach; amid the ruins they come rolling in.
15 Terrors overwhelm me; my dignity is driven away as by the wind, my safety vanishes like a cloud.
16 "And now my life ebbs away; days of suffering grip me.
17 Night pierces my bones; my gnawing pains never rest.
18 In his great power God becomes like clothing to me "; he binds me like the neck of my garment.
19 He throws me into the mud, and I am reduced to dust and ashes.
20 "I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me.
21 You turn on me ruthlessly; with the might of your hand you attack me.
22 You snatch me up and drive me before the wind; you toss me about in the storm.
23 I know you will bring me down to death, to the place appointed for all the living.
24 "Surely no one lays a hand on a broken man when he cries for help in his distress.
25 Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor?
26 Yet when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, then came darkness.
27 The churning inside me never stops; days of suffering confront me.
28 I go about blackened, but not by the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of owls.
30 My skin grows black and peels; my body burns with fever.
31 My lyre is tuned to mourning, and my pipe to the sound of wailing.