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^[a] 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.