Job 301 But now those who 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, to what 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 waste and desolation. 4 They pluck mallows by the bushes, and the roots of the juniper are their food. 5 They are driven forth from the midst of men. They cry out 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 sons of fools, yea, sons of base men. They were scourged out of the land. 9 And now I have become their song, Yea, I am a byword to them. 10 They abhor me. They stand aloof from me, and do not spare to spit in my face. 11 For he has 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 who 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 my 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 the great force my garment is disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat. 19 He has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. 20 I cry to thee, and thou do not answer me. I stand up, and thou gaze at me. 21 Thou have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of thy hand thou persecute me. 22 Thou lift me up to the wind. Thou cause me to ride upon it, and thou disintegrate me in the storm. 23 For I know that thou will bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. 24 However does not a man stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? 25 Did I not weep for him who 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 does not rest. Days of affliction have 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 falls from me. And my bones are burned with heat. 31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
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