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¹ "But now they mock at me, men younger than I, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock. ² Indeed, what profit is the strength of their hands to me? Their vigor has perished. ³ They are gaunt from want and famine, Fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste, ⁴ Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And broom tree roots for their food. ⁵ They were driven out from among men, They shouted at them as at a thief. ⁶ They had to live in the clefts of the valleys, In caves of the earth and the rocks. ⁷ Among the bushes they brayed, Under the nettles they nestled. ⁸ They were sons of fools, Yes, sons of vile men; They were scourged from the land. ⁹ "And now I am their taunting song; Yes, I am their byword. ¹⁰ They abhor me, they keep far from me; They do not hesitate to spit in my face. ¹¹ Because He has loosed my [fn] bowstring and afflicted me,They have cast off restraint before me. ¹² At my right hand the rabble arises; They push away my feet, And they raise against me their ways of destruction. ¹³ They break up my path, They promote my calamity; They have no helper. ¹⁴ They come as broad breakers; Under the ruinous storm they roll along.

¹⁵ Terrors are turned upon me; They pursue my honor as the wind, And my prosperity has passed like a cloud. ¹⁶ "And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; The days of affliction take hold of me. ¹⁷ My bones are pierced in me at night, And my gnawing pains take no rest. ¹⁸ By great force my garment is disfigured; It binds me about as the collar of my coat. ¹⁹ He has cast me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes. ²⁰ "I cry out to You, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You regard me. ²¹ But You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You oppose me. ²² You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride on it; You spoil my success. ²³ For I know that You will bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living. ²⁴ "Surely He would not stretch out His hand against a heap of ruins, If they cry out when He destroys it. ²⁵ Have I not wept for him who was in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the poor? ²⁶ But when I looked for good, evil came to me; And when I waited for light, then came darkness. ²⁷ My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest; Days of affliction confront me. ²⁸ I go about mourning, but not in the sun; I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help. ²⁹ I am a brother of jackals, And a companion of ostriches. ³⁰ My skin grows black and falls from me; My bones burn with fever. ³¹ My harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the voice of those who weep.