1 "But now those who are younger than I have me in derision,

whose fathers I considered unworthy to put with my sheep dogs.

2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me,

men in whom ripe age has perished?

3 They are gaunt from lack and famine.

They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.

4 They pluck salt herbs by the bushes.

The roots of the broom tree are their food.

5 They are driven out from among men.

They cry after them as after a thief,

6 so that they live in frightful valleys,

and in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

7 They bray among the bushes.

They are gathered together under the nettles.

8 They are children of fools, yes, children of wicked men.

They were flogged out of the land.

9 "Now I have become their song.

Yes, I am a byword to them.

10 They abhor me, they stand aloof from me,

and don’t hesitate to spit in my face.

11 For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me;

and they have thrown off restraint before me.

12 On my right hand rise the rabble.

They thrust aside my feet.

They cast their ways of destruction up against me.

13 They mar my path.

They promote my destruction

without anyone’s help.

14 As through a wide breach they come.

They roll themselves in amid the ruin.

15 Terrors have turned on me.

They chase my honor as the wind.

My welfare has passed away as a cloud.

16 "Now my soul is poured out within me.

Days of affliction have taken hold of me.

17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me,

and the pains that gnaw me take no rest.

18 My garment is disfigured by great force.

It binds me about as the collar of my tunic.

19 He has cast me into the mire.

I have become like dust and ashes.

20 I cry to you, and you do not answer me.

I stand up, and you gaze at me.

21 You have turned to be cruel to me.

With the might of your hand you persecute me.

22 You lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it.

You dissolve me in the storm.

23 For I know that you will bring me to death,

to the house appointed for all living.

24 "However doesn’t one stretch out a hand in his fall?

Or in his calamity therefore cry for help?

25 Didn’t I weep for him who was in trouble?

Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy?

26 When I looked for good, then evil came.

When I waited for light, darkness came.

27 My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest.

Days of affliction have come on 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 grows black and peels from me.

My bones are burned with heat.

31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning,

and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.

1 And now, laughed at me, Have the younger in days than I, Whose fathers I have loathed to set With the dogs of my flock.

2 Also -- the power of their hands, why [is it] to me? On them hath old age perished.

3 With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,

4 Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots [is] their food.

5 From the midst they are cast out, (They shout against them as a thief),

6 In a frightful place of valleys to dwell, Holes of earth and clefts.

7 Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.

8 Sons of folly -- even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.

9 And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.

10 They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.

11 Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.

12 On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.

13 They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, `He hath no helper.`

14 As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.

15 He hath turned against me terrors, It pursueth as the wind mine abundance, And as a thick cloud, Hath my safety passed away.

16 And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.

17 At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.

18 By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.

19 Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.

20 I cry unto Thee, And Thou dost not answer me, I have stood, and Thou dost consider me.

21 Thou art turned to be fierce to me, With the strength of Thy hand, Thou oppresest me.

22 Thou dost lift me up, On the wind Thou dost cause me to ride, And Thou meltest -- Thou levellest me.

23 For I have known To death Thou dost bring me back, And [to] the house appointed for all living.

24 Surely not against the heap Doth He send forth the hand, Though in its ruin they have safety.

25 Did not I weep for him whose day is hard? Grieved hath my soul for the needy.

26 When good I expected, then cometh evil, And I wait for light, and darkness cometh.

27 My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.

28 Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.

29 A brother I have been to dragons, And a companion to daughters of the ostrich.

30 My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,

31 And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.