1 | "But now they make sport of me, men who are younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock. |
2 | What could I gain from the strength of their hands, men whose vigor is gone? |
3 | Through want and hard hunger they gnaw the dry and desolate ground; |
4 | they pick mallow and the leaves of bushes, and to warm themselves the roots of the broom. |
5 | They are driven out from among men; they shout after them as after a thief. |
6 | In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks. |
7 | Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they huddle together. |
8 | A senseless, a disreputable brood, they have been whipped out of the land. |
9 | "And now I have become their song, I am a byword to them. |
10 | They abhor me, they keep aloof from me; they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me. |
11 | Because God has loosed my cord and humbled me, they have cast off restraint in my presence. |
12 | On my right hand the rabble rise, they drive me forth, they cast up against me their ways of destruction. |
13 | They break up my path, they promote my calamity; no one restrains them. |
14 | As through a wide breach they come; amid the crash they roll on. |
15 | Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. |
16 | "And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me. |
17 | The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest. |
18 | With violence it seizes my garment; it binds me about like the collar of my tunic. |
19 | God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. |
20 | I cry to thee and thou dost not answer me; I stand, and thou dost not heed me. |
21 | Thou hast turned cruel to me; with the might of thy hand thou dost persecute me. |
22 | Thou liftest me up on the wind, thou makest me ride on it, and thou tossest me about in the roar of the storm. |
23 | Yea, I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. |
24 | "Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help? |
25 | Did not I weep for him whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor? |
26 | But when I looked for good, evil came; and when I waited for light, darkness came. |
27 | My heart is in turmoil, and is never still; days of affliction come to meet me. |
28 | I go about blackened, but not by the sun; I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. |
29 | I am a brother of jackals, and a companion of ostriches. |
30 | My skin turns black and falls from me, and my bones burn with heat. |
31 | My lyre is turned to mourning, and my pipe to the voice of those who weep. |