Read the Bible

¹ "But now they mock me, those who are younger than I,
whose fathers I disdained too much
to put with my sheep dogs.
² Moreover, the strength of their hands—
what use was it to me?
Men whose strength had perished;
³ gaunt with want and hunger,
they would gnaw the parched land,
in former time desolate and waste.
⁴ By the brush they would gather herbs from the salt marshes,
and the root of the broom tree was their food.
⁵ They were banished from the community—
people shouted at them
like they would shout at thieves—
⁶ so that they had to live
in the dry stream beds,
in the holes of the ground, and among the rocks.
⁷ They brayed like animals among the bushes
and were huddled together under the nettles.
⁸ Sons of senseless and nameless people,
they were driven out of the land with whips.

⁹ "And now I have become their taunt song;
I have become a byword among them.
¹⁰ They detest me and maintain their distance;
they do not hesitate to spit in my face.
¹¹ Because God has untied my tent cord and afflicted me,
people throw off all restraint in my presence.
¹² On my right the young rabble rise up;
they drive me from place to place,
and build up siege ramps against me.
¹³ They destroy my path;
they succeed in destroying me
without anyone assisting them.
¹⁴ They come in as through a wide breach;
amid the crash they come rolling in.
¹⁵ Terrors are turned loose on me;
they drive away my honor like the wind,
and like a cloud my deliverance has passed away.

¹⁶ "And now my soul pours itself out within me;
days of suffering take hold of me.
¹⁷ Night pierces my bones;
my gnawing pains never cease.
¹⁸ With great power God grasps my clothing;
he binds me like the collar of my tunic.
¹⁹ He has flung me into the mud,
and I have come to resemble dust and ashes.
²⁰ I cry out to you, but you do not answer me;
I stand up, and you only look at me.
²¹ You have become cruel to me;
with the strength of your hand you attack me.
²² You pick me up on the wind and make me ride on it;
you toss me about in the storm.
²³ I know that you are bringing me to death,
to the meeting place for all the living.

²⁴ "Surely one does not stretch out his hand
against a broken man
when he cries for help in his distress.
²⁵ Have I not wept for the unfortunate?
Was not my soul grieved for the poor?
²⁶ But when I hoped for good, trouble came;
when I expected light, then darkness came.
²⁷ My heart is in turmoil unceasingly;
the days of my affliction confront me.
²⁸ I go about blackened, but not by the sun;
in the assembly I stand up and cry for help.
²⁹ I have become a brother to jackals
and a companion of ostriches.
³⁰ My skin has turned dark on me;
my body is hot with fever.
³¹ My harp is used for mourning
and my flute for the sound of weeping.