1 “But now I am mocked by people younger than I,
by young men whose fathers are not worthy to run with my sheepdogs.
those worn-out wretches!
They claw the dry ground in desolate wastelands.
and eat from the roots of broom trees.
and people shout at them as if they were thieves.
in caves and among the rocks.
huddled together beneath the nettles.
outcasts from society.
They taunt me!
except to spit in my face.
He has humbled me,
so they have thrown off all restraint.
They send me sprawling
and lay traps in my path.
and do everything they can to destroy me.
They know I have no one to help me.
They jump on me when I am down.
My honor has blown away in the wind,
and my prosperity has vanished like a cloud.
Depression haunts my days.
which gnaws at me relentlessly.
He grips me by the collar of my coat.
I’m nothing more than dust and ashes.
I stand before you, but you don’t even look.
You use your power to persecute me.
and destroy me in the storm.
the destination of all who live.
when they cry for help in their trouble.
Was I not deeply grieved for the needy?
I waited for the light, but darkness fell.
Days of suffering torment me.
I stand in the public square and cry for help.
and a companion to owls.
and my bones burn with fever.
and my flute accompanies those who weep.
Job, 30 chapter. New Living Translation.