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Job Keeps On Talking

¹ "But now those who are younger than I make fun of me. I thought so little of their fathers that I did not want them with my sheep dogs. ² Yes, what good could I get from the strength of their hands? Their strength was gone. ³ Their bodies are thin and in need of food. At night they bite the dry ground in the waste land. ⁴ They pick plants that taste of salt among the bushes. And they eat the root of the broom bush. ⁵ They are driven away from people. Men call out against them as if they were robbers. ⁶ So they live in valleys made by floods, in caves of the earth and of the rocks. ⁷ Among the bushes they cry out. They gather together under the thistles. ⁸ They are fools and they have no name. They have been driven out of the land.

⁹ "Now they make fun of me in song. They laugh at me. ¹⁰ They hate me and keep away from me, but they spit in my face. ¹¹ Because God has made the string of my bow loose and has troubled me, they have thrown off their respect for me. ¹² Their bad group comes to my right. They push me away and trip my feet, and make ways to destroy me. ¹³ They break up my path. They make trouble for me, and no one stops them. ¹⁴ They come as if through a wide hole in the wall, and roll on with much noise. ¹⁵ Fears come upon me. They go after my honor like the wind. And my well-being has passed away like a cloud.

¹⁶ "Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of trouble have taken hold of me. ¹⁷ Night cuts into my bones with pain. The pain keeps on and takes no rest. ¹⁸ My clothing is torn by a strong power. It pulls against me like the top of my coat. ¹⁹ God has thrown me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes. ²⁰ I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me. I stand up, and You turn away from me. ²¹ You work against me. With the power of Your hand you make it hard for me. ²² You lift me up to the wind and make it carry me. You throw me around in the storm. ²³ For I know that You will bring me to death, to the place for all the living.

²⁴ "Yet does not one in a destroyed place put out his hand, and in his trouble cry out for help? ²⁵ Have I not cried for the one whose life is hard? Was not my soul filled with sorrow for the poor? ²⁶ When I expected good, then trouble came. When I waited for light, darkness came. ²⁷ My heart is troubled and does not rest. Days of trouble are before me. ²⁸ I go about full of sorrow without comfort. I stand up where the people are gathered and cry out for help. ²⁹ I have become a brother to wild dogs, and a friend of ostriches. ³⁰ My skin becomes black and falls from me. My bones burn because I am sick. ³¹ So my harp is turned to sorrow, and my horn to the sound of crying.