1 “ But now those younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock.

2 “ Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them.

3 “ From want and famine they are gaunt Who gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation,

4 W ho pluck mallow by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub.

5 “ They are driven from the community; They shout against them as against a thief,

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

7 “ Among the bushes they cry out; Under the nettles they are gathered together.

8 “ Fools, even those without a name, They were scourged from the land.

9 “ And now I have become their taunt, I have even become a byword to them.

10 “ They abhor me and stand aloof from me, And they do not refrain from spitting at my face.

11 “ Because He has loosed His bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off the bridle before me.

12 “ On the right hand their brood arises; They thrust aside my feet and build up against me their ways of destruction.

13 “ They break up my path, They profit from my destruction; No one restrains them.

14 “ As through a wide breach they come, Amid the tempest they roll on.

15 “ Terrors are turned against me; They pursue my honor as 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 seized me.

17 “ At night it pierces my bones within me, And my gnawing pains take no rest.

18 “ By a great force my garment is distorted; 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 out to You for help, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You turn Your attention against me.

21 “ You have become cruel to me; With the might of Your hand You persecute me.

22 “ You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride; And You dissolve me in a storm.

23 “ For I know that You will bring me to death And to the house of meeting for all living.

24 “ Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, Or in his disaster therefore cry out for help?

25 “ Have I not wept for the one whose life is hard? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?

26 “ When I expected good, then evil came; When I waited for light, then darkness came.

27 “ I am seething within and cannot relax; Days of affliction confront me.

28 “ I go about mourning without comfort; I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.

29 “ I have become a brother to jackals And a companion of ostriches.

30 “ My skin turns black on me, And my bones burn with fever.

31 “ Therefore my harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the sound of those who weep.