CHAPTER 30
1And now mere striplings laugh at me
to put with the dogs of my flock.
2 The strength of their hands—what use to me?
From them the vigor has gone:
3 In want and starvation bereft
they flee to desert land,
the darkness of desolate dunes,
4plucking saltwort from the bush,
the roots of broom wood their bread.
5 From within they are banished—
people shout over them as at thieves.
6In river ravines they encamp,
holes in the dust and crags.
7Among bushes they bray,
beneath thorn plants they huddle.
8Vile creatures and nameless, too,
they are struck from the land.
9And now I become their taunt,
I become their mocking word.
10They despised me, were distant to me,
and from my face they did not spare their spit.
11For my bowstring they loosed and abused me,
cast off restraint toward me.
12On the right, raw youths stand up,
and pave against me their roadways of ruin.
13They shatter my path,
my disaster devise,
and none helps me against them.
14Like a wide water-burst they come,
in the shape of a tempest they
15Terror rolls over me,
pursues my path like the wind,
and my rescue like a cloud passes on.
16 And now my life spills out,
days of affliction seize me.
17 At night my limbs are pierced,
and my sinews know no rest.
18 With great power He seizes my garment,
grabs hold of me at the collar.
19He hurls me into the muck,
and I become like dust and ashes.
20 I scream to You and You do not answer,
I stand still and You do not observe me.
21You become a cruel one toward me,
with the might of Your hand You hound me.
22 You bear me up, on the wind make me straddle,
23For I know You’ll return me to death,
the meetinghouse of all living things.
24 But one would not reach out against the afflicted
if in his disaster he screamed.
25 Have I not wept for the bleak-fated man,
sorrowed for the impoverished?
26For I hoped for good and evil ca1me.
I expected light and darkness fell.
27My innards seethed and would not be still,
days of affliction greeted me.
28In gloom did I walk, with no sun,
I rose in assembly and I screamed.
29Brother I was to the jackals,
companion to ostriches.
30My skin turned black upon me,
my limbs were scorched by drought.
31And my lyre has turned into mourning,
my flute, a keening sound.