MLV(i)
1 But now, those who are younger than I mock me, whose fathers I disdained to set with the dogs of my flock.
2 Yes, the strength of their hands, to what should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age has perished. 3 They are barren with want and famine. They gnaw the dry ground in the gloom of waste and desolation. 4 They pluck mallows by the bushes and the roots of the juniper are their food.
5 They are driven forth from the midst of men. They cry out after them as after a thief, 6 so that they dwell in frightful valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks. 7 Among the bushes they bray, under the nettles they are gathered together. 8 They are sons of fools, yes, sons of base men. They were scourged out of the land.
9 And now I have become their song, Yes, I am a parable to them. 10 They abhor me. They stand far away from me and do not refrain to spit in my face. 11 For he has loosed his cord and afflicted me. And they have cast off the bridle before me.
12 Upon my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet and they cast up against me their ways of destruction. 13 They mar my path. They set forward my calamity, even men who have no helper. 14 As through a wide breach they come. In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me. 15 Terrors are turned upon me. They chase my honor as the wind and my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold upon me. 17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me and the pains that gnaw me take no rest. 18 By the great force my garment is disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat. 19 He has cast me into the mud and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry to you and you do not answer me. I stand up and you gaze at me. 21 You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me. 22 You lift me up to the wind. You cause me to ride upon it and you disintegrate me in the storm. 23 For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for all living.
24 However does not a man stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? 25 Did I not weep for him who was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
26 When I looked for good, then evil came. And when I waited for light, there came darkness. 27 My heart is troubled and does not rest. Days of affliction have come upon me. 28 I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 I am a brother to jackals and a companion to ostriches. 30 My skin is black, and falls from me. And my bones are burned with heat. 31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
2 Yes, the strength of their hands, to what should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age has perished. 3 They are barren with want and famine. They gnaw the dry ground in the gloom of waste and desolation. 4 They pluck mallows by the bushes and the roots of the juniper are their food.
5 They are driven forth from the midst of men. They cry out after them as after a thief, 6 so that they dwell in frightful valleys, in holes of the earth and of the rocks. 7 Among the bushes they bray, under the nettles they are gathered together. 8 They are sons of fools, yes, sons of base men. They were scourged out of the land.
9 And now I have become their song, Yes, I am a parable to them. 10 They abhor me. They stand far away from me and do not refrain to spit in my face. 11 For he has loosed his cord and afflicted me. And they have cast off the bridle before me.
12 Upon my right hand rise the rabble. They thrust aside my feet and they cast up against me their ways of destruction. 13 They mar my path. They set forward my calamity, even men who have no helper. 14 As through a wide breach they come. In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me. 15 Terrors are turned upon me. They chase my honor as the wind and my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold upon me. 17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me and the pains that gnaw me take no rest. 18 By the great force my garment is disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat. 19 He has cast me into the mud and I have become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry to you and you do not answer me. I stand up and you gaze at me. 21 You have turned to be cruel to me. With the might of your hand you persecute me. 22 You lift me up to the wind. You cause me to ride upon it and you disintegrate me in the storm. 23 For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for all living.
24 However does not a man stretch out the hand in his fall? Or in his calamity therefore cry for help? 25 Did I not weep for him who was in trouble? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
26 When I looked for good, then evil came. And when I waited for light, there came darkness. 27 My heart is troubled and does not rest. Days of affliction have come upon me. 28 I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
29 I am a brother to jackals and a companion to ostriches. 30 My skin is black, and falls from me. And my bones are burned with heat. 31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.