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¹ But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, ² Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? men in whom ripe age is perished.³ They are gaunt with want and famine; they gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation.⁴ They pluck salt-wort with wormwood; and the roots of the broom are their food.⁵ They are driven forth from the midst of men; they cry after them as after a thief.⁶ In the clefts of the valleys must they dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.⁷ Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they are gathered together.⁸ They are children of churls, yea, children of ignoble men; they were scourged out of the land.⁹ And now I am become their song, yea, I am a byword unto them.¹⁰ They abhor me, they flee far from me, and spare not to spit in my face.¹¹ For He hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, and they have cast off the bridle before me.¹² Upon my right hand rise the brood; they entangle my feet, and they cast up against me their ways of destruction.¹³ They break up my path, they further my calamity, even men that have no helper.¹⁴ As through a wide breach they come; in the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me.

¹⁵ Terrors are turned upon me, ¹⁶ And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold upon me.¹⁷ In the night my bones are pierced, and fall from me, and my sinews take no rest.¹⁸ By the great force [of my disease] is my garment disfigured; it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.¹⁹ He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.²⁰ I cry unto Thee, and Thou dost not answer me; I stand up, and Thou lookest at me.²¹ Thou art turned to be cruel to me; with the might of Thy hand Thou hatest me.²² Thou liftest me up to the wind, Thou causest me to ride upon it; and Thou dissolvest my substance.²³ For I know that Thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living.²⁴ Surely none shall put forth his hand to a ruinous heap, neither because of these things shall help come in one's calamity,²⁵ If I have not wept for him that was in trouble, and if my soul grieved not for the needy.²⁶ Yet, when I looked for good, there came evil; and when I waited for light, there came darkness.²⁷ Mine inwards boil, and rest not; days of affliction are come upon me.²⁸ I go mourning without the sun; I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.²⁹ I am become a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches.³⁰ My skin is black, and falleth from me, and my bones are burned with heat.³¹ Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of them that weep.