Job Bewails His Present Affliction |
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But now they that are younger than I have me in derision,
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whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock. |
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Yea, whereto might the strength of their hands profit me,
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in whom old age was perished? |
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For want and famine they were solitary;
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fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste: |
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who cut up mallows by the bushes,
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and juniper roots for their meat. |
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They were driven forth from among men,
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(they cried after them as after a thief,) |
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to dwell in the cliffs of the valleys,
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in caves of the earth, and in the rocks. |
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Among the bushes they brayed;
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under the nettles they were gathered together. |
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They were children of fools, yea, children of base men:
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they were viler than the earth. |
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And now am I their song,
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They abhor me, they flee far from me,
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and spare not to spit in my face. |
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Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me,
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they have also let loose the bridle before me. |
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Upon my right hand rise the youth;
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they push away my feet, |
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and they raise up against me the ways of their destruction. |
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They mar my path,
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they set forward my calamity, |
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they have no helper. |
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They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters:
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in the desolation they rolled themselves upon me. |
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Terrors are turned upon me:
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they pursue my soul as the wind: |
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and my welfare passeth away as a cloud. |
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And now my soul is poured out upon me;
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the days of affliction have taken hold upon me. |
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My bones are pierced in me in the night season:
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and my sinews take no rest. |
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By the great force of my disease is my garment changed:
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it bindeth me about as the collar of my coat. |
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He hath cast me into the mire,
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and I am become like dust and ashes. |
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I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me:
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I stand up, and thou regardest me not. |
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Thou art become cruel to me:
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with thy strong hand thou opposest thyself against me. |
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Thou liftest me up to the wind;
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thou causest me to ride upon it, |
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and dissolvest my substance. |
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For I know that thou wilt bring me to death,
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and to the house appointed for all living. |
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Howbeit he will not stretch out his hand to the grave,
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though they cry in his destruction. |
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Did not I weep for him that was in trouble?
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Was not my soul grieved for the poor? |
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When I looked for good, then evil came unto me:
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and when I waited for light, there came darkness. |
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My bowels boiled, and rested not:
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the days of affliction prevented me. |
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I went mourning without the sun:
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I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. |
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I am a brother to dragons,
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My skin is black upon me,
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and my bones are burned with heat. |
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My harp also is turned to mourning,
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and my organ into the voice of them that weep. |
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