1 “ But now those who are younger than I have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to put with my sheep dogs.

2 O f what use is the strength of their hands to me, men in whom ripe age has perished?

3 T hey are gaunt from lack and famine. They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.

4 T hey pluck salt herbs by the bushes. The roots of the broom are their food.

5 T hey are driven out from among men. They cry after them as after a thief;

6 S o that they dwell in frightful valleys, and in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

7 A mong the bushes they bray; and under the nettles they are gathered together.

8 T hey are children of fools, yes, children of base men. They were flogged out of the land.

9 “ Now I have become their song. Yes, I am a byword to them.

10 T hey abhor me, they stand aloof from me, and don’t hesitate to spit in my face.

11 F or he has untied his cord, and afflicted me; and they have thrown off restraint before me.

12 O n my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet, They cast up against me their ways of destruction.

13 T hey mar my path, They set forward my calamity, without anyone’s help.

14 A s through a wide breach they come, in the middle of the ruin they roll themselves in.

15 T errors 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 on me.

17 I n the night season my bones are pierced in me, and the pains that gnaw me take no rest.

18 B y great force is my garment disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat.

19 H e 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 Y ou have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me.

22 Y ou lift me up to the wind, and drive me with it. You dissolve me in the storm.

23 F or 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 D idn’t I weep for him who was in trouble? Wasn’t my soul grieved for the needy?

26 W hen I looked for good, then evil came; When I waited for light, there came darkness.

27 M y 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 M y skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat.

31 T herefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.