Job chapter 30 tag:brojed.org/cms,2026-04-19:20260419 2026-04-19T21:54:41+00:00 tag:brojed.org/cms,2026-04-19:20260419 2026-04-19T21:54:41+00:00

"But now they mock at me, [men] younger than I, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock. Indeed, what [profit] is the strength of their hands to me? Their vigor has perished. [They are] gaunt from want and famine, Fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste, Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And broom tree roots [for] their food. They were driven out from among [men,] They shouted at them as [at] a thief. [They had] to live in the clefts of the valleys, [In] caves of the earth and the rocks. Among the bushes they brayed, Under the nettles they nestled. [They were] sons of fools, Yes, sons of vile men; They were scourged from the land. "And now I am their taunting song; Yes, I am their byword. They abhor me, they keep far from me; They do not hesitate to spit in my face. Because He has loosed my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off restraint before me. At [my] right [hand] the rabble arises; They push away my feet, And they raise against me their ways of destruction. They break up my path, They promote my calamity; They have no helper. They come as broad breakers; Under the ruinous storm they roll along. Terrors are turned upon me; They pursue my honor as the wind, And my prosperity has passed like a cloud. "And now my soul is poured out because of my [plight;] The days of affliction take hold of me. My bones are pierced in me at night, And my gnawing pains take no rest. By great force my garment is disfigured; It binds me about as the collar of my coat. He has cast me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes. " I cry out to You, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You regard me. [But] You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You oppose me. You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride [on it;] You spoil my success. For I know [that] You will bring me [to] death, And [to] the house appointed for all living. " Surely He would not stretch out [His] hand against a heap of ruins, If they cry out when He destroys [it.] Have I not wept for him who was in trouble? Has [not] my soul grieved for the poor? But when I looked for good, evil came [to me;] And when I waited for light, then came darkness. My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest; Days of affliction confront me. I go about mourning, but not in the sun; I stand up in the assembly [and] cry out for help. I am a brother of jackals, And a companion of ostriches. My skin grows black and falls from me; My bones burn with fever. My harp is [turned] to mourning, And my flute to the voice of those who weep.

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