Job 301 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. 2 Yes, whereto might the strength of their hands profit me, in whom old age was perished? 3 For want and famine they were solitary; fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste. 4 Who cut up mallows by the bushes, and juniper roots for their meat. 5 They were driven forth from among men, (they cried after them as after a thief;) 6 To dwell in the cliffs of the valleys, in caves of the earth, and in the rocks. 7 Among the bushes they brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together. 8 They were children of fools, yes, children of base men: they were viler than the earth. 9 And now am I their song, yes, I am their byword. 10 They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face. 11 Because he has loosed my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle before me. 12 On my right hand rise the youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction. 13 They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, they have no helper. 14 They came on me as a wide breaking in of waters: in the desolation they rolled themselves on me. 15 Terrors are turned on me: they pursue my soul as the wind: and my welfare passes away as a cloud. 16 And now my soul is poured out on me; the days of affliction have taken hold on me. 17 My bones are pierced in me in the night season: and my sinews take no rest. 18 By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: it binds me about as the collar of my coat. 19 He has cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes. 20 I cry to you, and you do not hear me: I stand up, and you regard me not. 21 You are become cruel to me: with your strong hand you oppose yourself against me. 22 You lift me up to the wind; you cause me to ride on it, and dissolve my substance. 23 For I know that you will bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. 24 However, he will not stretch out his hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction. 25 Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor? 26 When I looked for good, then evil came to me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. 27 My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. 28 I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. 29 I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. 30 My skin is black on me, and my bones are burned with heat. 31 My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.
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