1But now people much younger than me laugh at me; people whose fathers I would not put to work with my sheepdogs.

2They are too weak to be any use to me; they're all worn-out.

3Thin through hunger and want, they try to eat the dry ground in the dark, desolate wilderness.

4There they pick desert herbs and the leaves of bushes, and eat the roots of broom trees.

5They were driven out of the community.

6People shouted after them as if they were thieves. They have to live in dangerous ravines, in caves and among the rocks.

7They shout out like animals among the bushes; they huddle together in the weeds for shelter.

8They are foolish, nameless people that have been driven from the land.

9Yet now they mock me in their songs; I have become a joke to them!

10They despise and shun me; they don't hesitate to spit in my face.

11God has made my bowstring loose ¹⁸⁹and humbled me.

12The rabble rise up against me, they send me running; ¹⁹⁰like a city under siege they devise ways to destroy me. ¹⁹¹

13They cut off my way of escape; they bring about my downfall and do this without anyone's help.

14They come in through a wide breach; they rush in as the wall comes tumbling down. ¹⁹²

15Terrors overcome me; my honor is blown away by the wind; my salvation vanishes like a cloud.

16And now my life is ebbing away; every day despair ¹⁹³grips me.

17At night my bones are in agony; the pain gnaws at me and never stops.

18God grabs me roughly by my clothes; he pulls me by the collar of my shirt.

19He has thrown me in the mud; he has humbled me like dust and ashes.

20God, I cry to you but you don't answer; I stand before you, but you don't even notice me.

21You have turned cruel to me; you use your power to make me suffer.

22You pick me up and blow me along in the wind; tossing me about in the whirlwind.

23I know you're taking me to my death, to the place where all the living go.

24Who would want to kick a man when he is down, ¹⁹⁴when they cry for help in their time of trouble?

25Didn't I weep for those having hard times? Didn't I grieve at what the poor suffered?

26But when I looked for good, only evil came, and when I waited for the light, all that came was darkness.

27Inside I am in turmoil, ¹⁹⁵it never stops; I face days of despair.

28I am so depressed; seeing the sun doesn't help. ¹⁹⁶I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.

29I am like a brother to the jackals, a companion to owls. ¹⁹⁷

30My skin turns black on me; and my bones burn within me.

31My lyre only plays sad songs, and my pipe is the voice of those who weep.