1 禄Men younger than I am make fun of me now! Their fathers have always been so worthless that I would not let them help dogs guard sheep.
2 禄They were a bunch of worn-out men, too weak to do any work for me.
3 禄Shriveled up from need and hunger, they gnaw at the dry and barren ground during the night.
4 禄They pick mallow salt herb from the underbrush, and the roots of the broom plant are their food.
5 禄They are driven from the community. People shout at them in the same way they shout at thieves.
6 禄They have to live in dry riverbeds the clefts of the valleyswadis, in holes in the ground, and among rocks.
7 禄They howl in bushes and huddle together under thorn bushes.
8 禄Godless fools and worthless people are forced out of the land with whips.
9 禄Now they make fun of me with songs. I have become a joke to them.
10 禄Since they consider me disgusting, they keep their distance from me and don't hesitate to spit in my face.
11 禄Because God has untied my cord and has made me suffer, they are no longer restrained in my presence.
12 禄They have attacked me on my right side like a mob. They trip my feet and then prepare ways to destroy me.
13 禄They break up my path, they promote my calamity and no one restrains them!
14 禄As through a wide breach they come. Amid the crash they roll on.
15 禄Terrorists turn on me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.
16 禄Now I am poured out, the days of affliction have taken hold of me.
17 禄The night racks my bones, and the pain that eats at me takes no rest.
18 禄With violence it seizes my garment. It binds me about like the collar of my tunic.
19 禄God has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.
20 禄I cry to you and you do not answer me! I stand, and you do not heed me.
21 禄You have turned cruel to me. With the might of your hand you appose me.
22 禄You lift me up on the wind, you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.
23 禄Yes, I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living.
24 禄Does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, Or in his disaster cry out for help?
25 禄Have I not wept for the one whose life is hard? Was I not grieved for the needy?
26 禄When I expected good evil came. When I waited for light darkness came.
27 禄I am seething within and cannot relax! Days of affliction confront me.
28 禄I go about mourning without comfort. I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.
29 禄I am a brother to jackals and a companion of ostriches.
30 禄My skin grows black on me and my bones burn with fever.
31 禄Therefore my harp is turned to mourning, and my flute to the sound of those who weep.