1Now those who are younger than I have nothing but mockery for me—
these young men whose fathers I would have refused to allow to work beside the dogs of my flock.

2Indeed, the strength of their fathers' hands, how could it have helped me—
men in whom the strength of their mature age had perished?

3They were thin from poverty and hunger;
they gnawed at the dry ground in the darkness of wilderness and desolation.

4They plucked saltwort and bushes' leaves;
the roots of the broom tree were their food.

5They were driven out from among people
who shouted after them as one would shout after a thief.

6So they had to live in river valleys,
in holes of the earth and of the rocks.

7Among the bushes they brayed like donkeys
and they gathered together under the nettles.

8They were the sons of fools, indeed, sons of nameless people!
They were driven out of the land with whips.

9But now I have become the subject of their taunting song;
I have become a byword for them.

10They abhor me and stand far off from me;
they do not refrain from spitting in my face.

11For God has unstrung the string to my bow and afflicted me,
and those who taunt me cast off restraint before my face.

12Upon my right hand rise the rabble;
they drive me away and
pile up against me their siege mounds.

13They destroy my path;
they push forward disaster for me,
men who have no one to hold them back.

14They come against me like an army through a wide hole in a city wall;
in the midst of the destruction they roll themselves in on me.

15Terrors are turned upon me;
my honor is driven away as if by the wind;
my prosperity passes away as a cloud.

16Now my life is pouring out from within me;
many days of suffering have laid hold on me.

17In the night my bones in me are pierced;
the pains that gnaw at me take no rest.

18God's great force has seized my clothing;
it wraps around me like the collar of my tunic.

19He has thrown me into the mud;
I have become like dust and ashes.

20I cry to you, God, but you do not answer me;
I stand up, and you merely look at me.

21You have changed and become cruel to me;
with the strength of your hand you persecute me.

22You lift me up to the wind and cause it to drive me along;
you throw me back and forth in a storm. ⁴

23For I know that you will bring me to death,
to the house appointed for all the living.

24However, does no one reach out with his hand to beg for help when he falls?
Does no one in trouble call out for help?

25Did not I weep for him who was in trouble?
Did I not grieve for the needy man?

26When I hoped for good, then evil came;
when I waited for light, darkness came instead.

27My heart is troubled and does not rest;
days of affliction have come on me.

28I have gone about like one who was living in the dark,
but not because of the sun;
I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.

29I am a brother to jackals,
a companion of ostriches.

30My skin is black and falls away from me;
my bones are burned with heat.

31Therefore my harp is tuned for songs of mourning,
my flute for the singing of those who wail.