Job 30 глава

Job
English Standard Version → Елизаветинская Библия

“But now they laugh at me, men who are younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock.

Нн҃ѣ же порѹга́шамисѧ малѣ́йшїи: нн҃ѣ ѹ҆ча́тъ мѧ̀ ѿ ча́сти, и҆́хже ѻ҆тцє́въ ѹ҆ничтожа́хъ, и҆́хже не вмѣнѧ́хъ досто́йными псѡ́въ мои́хъ ста́дъ.

What could I gain from the strength of their hands, men whose vigor is gone?

Крѣ́пость же рѹ́къ и҆́хъ во что̀ мнѣ̀ бы́сть; ѹ҆ ни́хъ погиба́ше сконча́нїе.

Through want and hard hunger they gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation;

Въ скѹ́дости и҆ гла́дѣ безпло́денъ: и҆̀же бѣжа́хѹ въ безво́дное вчера̀ сотѣсне́нїе и҆ бѣ́дность:

they pick saltwort and the leaves of bushes, and the roots of the broom tree for their food.a

и҆̀же ѡ҆бхожда́хѹ бы́лїе въ де́брехъ, и҆̀мже бы́лїе бѧ́ше бра́шно, безче́стнїи же и҆ похѹле́ннїи, скѹ́дни всѧ́кагѡ бла́га, и҆̀же и҆ коре́нїе древе́съ жва́хѹ ѿ гла́да вели́кагѡ.

They are driven out from human company; they shout after them as after a thief.

Воста́ша на мѧ̀ та́тїе,

In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

и҆́хже до́мове бѣ́ша пещє́ры ка́мєнны:

Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they huddle together.

ѿ среды̀ доброгла́сныхъ возопїю́тъ, и҆̀же под̾ хвра́стїемъ ди́вїимъ живѧ́хѹ:

A senseless, a nameless brood, they have been whipped out of the land.

безѹ́мныхъ сы́нове и҆ безче́стныхъ, и҆́мѧ и҆ сла́ва ѹ҆гаше́на на землѝ.

“And now I have become their song; I am a byword to them.

Нн҃ѣ же гѹ́сли є҆́смь а҆́зъ и҆̀мъ, и҆ менѐ въ при́тчѹ и҆́мѹтъ:

They abhor me; they keep aloof from me; they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me.

возгнѹша́лисѧ же мно́ю ѿстѹпи́вше дале́че, ни лица̀ моегѡ̀ пощадѣ́ша ѿ плюнове́нїѧ.

Because God has loosed my cord and humbled me, they have cast off restraintb in my presence.

Ѿве́рзъ бо тѹ́лъ сво́й ѹ҆ѧзви́ мѧ, и҆ ѹ҆здѹ̀ ѹ҆ста́мъ мои҄мъ наложѝ.

On my right hand the rabble rise; they push away my feet; they cast up against me their ways of destruction.

На деснѹ́ю ѿра́сли воста́ша, но́зѣ своѝ простро́ша и҆ пѹтесотвори́ша на мѧ̀ стєзѝ па́гѹбы своеѧ̀.

They break up my path; they promote my calamity; they need no one to help them.

Сотро́шасѧ стєзѝ моѧ҄, совлеко́ша бо мѝ ѻ҆де́ждѹ.

As through a wide breach they come; amid the crash they roll on.

Стрѣла́ми свои́ми ѹ҆стрѣли́ мѧ: сотвори́ ми, ѩ҆́коже восхотѣ̀: въ болѣ́знехъ скисо́хсѧ, ѡ҆браща́ютсѧ же мѝ скѡ́рби.

Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.

Ѿи́де мѝ наде́жда ѩ҆́коже вѣ́тръ, и҆ ѩ҆́коже ѡ҆́блакъ спасе́нїе моѐ.

“And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me.

И҆ нн҃ѣ на мѧ̀ и҆злїе́тсѧ дѹша̀ моѧ̀: и҆ ѡ҆держа́тъ мѧ̀ дні́е печа́лей:

The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.

но́щїю же кѡ́сти моѧ҄ смѧто́шасѧ, жи҄лы же моѧ҄ разслабѣ́ша.

With great force my garment is disfigured; it binds me about like the collar of my tunic.

Мно́гою крѣ́постїю ѩ҆́тсѧ за ри́зѹ мою̀: ѩ҆́коже ѡ҆жере́лїе ри́зы моеѧ̀ ѡ҆б̾ѧ́ мѧ.

Godc has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.

Вмѣнѧ́еши же мѧ̀ ра́вна бре́нїю, въ землѝ и҆ пе́пелѣ ча́сть моѧ̀.

I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand, and you only look at me.

Возопи́хъ же къ тебѣ̀, и҆ не ѹ҆слы́шалъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ: ста́ша же и҆ смотри́ша на мѧ̀.

You have turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you persecute me.

Наидо́ша же на мѧ̀ без̾ ми́лости, рѹко́ю крѣ́пкою ѹ҆ѧзви́лъ мѧ̀ є҆сѝ:

You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.

вчини́лъ же мѧ̀ є҆сѝ въ болѣ́знехъ и҆ ѿве́рглъ є҆сѝ мѧ̀ ѿ спасе́нїѧ.

For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for all living.

Вѣ́мъ бо, ѩ҆́кѡ сме́рть мѧ̀ сотре́тъ: до́мъ бо всѧ́комѹ сме́ртнѹ землѧ̀.

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

А҆́ще бы возмо́жно бы́ло, са́мъ бы́хъ себѐ ѹ҆би́лъ, и҆лѝ моли́лъ бы́хъ и҆но́го, дабы̀ мѝ то̀ сотвори́лъ.

Did not I weep for him whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?

А҆́зъ же ѡ҆ всѧ́цѣмъ немощнѣ́мъ воспла́кахсѧ, воздохнѹ́хъ же ви́дѣвъ мѹ́жа въ бѣда́хъ.

But when I hoped for good, evil came, and when I waited for light, darkness came.

А҆́зъ же жда́хъ благи́хъ, и҆ сѐ, срѣто́ша мѧ̀ па́че дні́е ѕѡ́лъ.

My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; days of affliction come to meet me.

Чре́во моѐ воскипѣ̀ и҆ не ѹ҆молчи́тъ: предвари́ша мѧ̀ дні́е нищеты̀.

I go about darkened, but not by the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.

Стенѧ̀ ходи́хъ без̾ ѡ҆бѹзда́нїѧ, стоѧ́хъ же въ собо́рѣ вопїѧ̀.

I am a brother of jackals and a companion of ostriches.

Бра́тъ бы́хъ сі́ринамъ, дрѹ́гъ же пти́чїй.

My skin turns black and falls from me, and my bones burn with heat.

Ко́жа же моѧ̀ помрачи́сѧ вельмѝ, и҆ кѡ́сти моѧ҄ сгорѣ́ша ѿ зно́ѧ.

My lyre is turned to mourning, and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.

Ѡ҆брати́шасѧ же въ пла́чь гѹ́сли моѧ҄, пѣ́снь же моѧ̀ въ рыда́нїе мнѣ̀.

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