Rotherham - Job - 30

30:1  But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused—to set with the dogs of my flock.

30:2  Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;

30:3  In want and hunger, they were lean,—who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!

30:4  Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;

30:5  Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;

30:6  In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;

30:7  Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:

30:8  Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.

30:9  But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;

30:10  They abhor me—have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld—spittle!

30:11  Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle—in my presence, cast they off;

30:12  On my right hand, the young brood rose up,—My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;

30:13  They brake up my path,—My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;

30:14  As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.

30:15  There are turned upon me terrors,—Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.

30:16  Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:

30:17  Night, boreth, my bones, all over me,—and, my sinews, find no rest;

30:18  Most effectually, is my skin disfigured,—Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:

30:19  He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.

30:20  I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;

30:21  Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;

30:22  Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;

30:23  For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.

30:24  Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity—for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.

30:25  Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.

30:26  Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;

30:27  I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me—days of affliction;

30:28  In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose—in the convocation, I cried out for help;

30:29  A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:

30:30  My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:

30:31  Thus is attuned to mourning—my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.