Job’s Present State Is Humiliating
1“But now those who are younger than I mock me,
Whose fathers I refused to put with the dogs of my flock.
2Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me?
Vigor had perished from them.
3From poverty and famine they are gaunt,
They who gnaw at the dry ground by night in waste and desolation,
4Who pluck saltweed by the bushes,
And whose food is the root of the broom shrub.
5They are driven from the community;
They shout against them as against a thief,
6So that they live on the slopes of ravines,
In holes in the ground and among the rocks.
7Among the bushes they Or braycry out;
Under the weeds they are gathered together.
8Worthless Lit sonsfellows, even Lit sonsthose without a name,
They were cast out from the land.
9“And now I have become their Lit songtaunt,
And I have become a I.e., prob. a word of insultbyword to them.
10They loathe me and stand aloof from me,
And they do not Lit withhold spit from my facerefrain from spitting in my face.
11Because He has undone Some mss Hismy Or cordbowstring and afflicted me,
They have cast off the bridle before me.
12On the right hand their Or youth arisemob arises;
They push aside my feet and pile up their ways of destruction against me.
13They break up my path,
They promote my destruction;
No one restrains them.
14As through a wide gap they come,
Lit Under Amid the storm they roll on.
15Sudden terrors are turned upon me;
They chase away my dignity like the wind,
And my Or welfareprosperity has passed away like a cloud.
16“And now my soul is poured out Lit uponwithin me;
Days of misery have seized me.
17At night it pierces my bones Lit from uponwithin me,
And my gnawing pains do not rest.
18By a great force my garment is distorted;
It ties me up like the collar of my coat.
19He has thrown me into the mire,
And I have become like dust and ashes.
20I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me;
I stand up, and You turn Your attention against me.
21You have Lit turned to bebecome cruel to me;
With the strength of Your hand You persecute me.
22You lift me up to the wind and make me ride it;
And You dissolve me in a storm.
23For I know that You will bring me to death,
And to the house of meeting for all living.
24“Yet does one in a heap of ruins not reach out with his hand,
Or in his disaster does he not cry out for help?
25Have I not wept for the Lit hard of dayone whose life is hard?
Was my soul not grieved for the needy?
26When I expected good, evil came;
When I waited for light, darkness came.
27 Lit My inward parts are boiling I am seething within and cannot rest;
Days of misery confront me.
28I go about Or blackened, but not by the heat of the sunmourning without comfort;
I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.
29I have become a brother to jackals,
And a companion of ostriches.
30My skin turns black Lit from uponon me,
And my bones burn with Lit heatfever.
31Therefore my harp Lit becomesis turned to mourning,
And my flute to the sound of those who weep.
New American Standard Bible
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by The Lockman Foundation, La Habra, Calif. All rights reserved.
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