1 But now they who are younger than I in years laugh at me, whose fathers I scorned to put as equals with the dogs of my flocks. 2 Yea, what possible use can the strength of their hands be unto me, over whom old age hath passed fruitlessly? 3 Who suffer for want and famine in solitude; who flee into the wilderness where all is darkness, ruin, and desolation; 4 Who crop off mallows by the bushes, and have broom-bush roots as their bread; 5 Who are driven forth from among men, who are shouted after as though they were thieves, 6 To dwell in the caverns of the valleys, in holes of the earth, and on naked cliffs. 7 Among the bushes they shriek; under briers they are huddled together, 8 The children of the worthless, yea, the children of the nameless, who were outcasts from the land. 9 But now I am become their song, and I am become a byword unto them. 10 They loathe me, they keep themselves far from me, and from my face they withhold not their spittle. 11 Because he hath loosened the cord of my bow, and afflicted me, they have also cast off the bridle before me. 12 Against my right hand rise up this swarm of worthless youths: they push away my feet, and they level against me their calamity-bringing paths. 13 They destroy my footpath, they help forward my downfall, without any one to aid them. 14 As through a broad breach they come: amidst a loud noise they rolled themselves along. 15 Terrors have turned their face against me; they chase like the wind my glory: and like a cloud is my happiness passed away. 16 And now my soul is poured out over me; the days of affliction have seized on me; 17 All night it holloweth out my bones out of my body; and my pursuers take no rest. 18 Through the Almlghty's power is my garment made unknown: like the opening of my coat hath he enclosed me. 19 He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes. 20 I cry aloud unto thee, but thou answerest me not: I stand up, and thou fixest thy regard against me. 21 Thou art changed into a cruel master toward me: with the strength of thy hand thou assailest me. 22 Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to pass away, and dissolvest in me all wise counsel. 23 For I know that thou wilt bring me back to death, and to the house of assembly for all the living. 24 But doth not a man stretch out his hand among ruins? or doth one not cry out therefrom for help when he meeteth his downfall? 25 Did I not weep for him that was hard pressed by misfortune? was not my soul grieved for the needy? 26 That I hoped for good, but there came evil; and I waited for light, and there came darkness! 27 My bowels heave, and rest not: the days of affliction have overcome me. 28 I walk about mournfully without sunlight: when I rise up, in the assembly, I cry with pain. 29 I am a brother to howling monsters, and a companion to ostriches. 30 My skin hangeth down black from me, and my bones are burnt from heat. 31 And thus is changed to mourning my harp, and my pipe to the sound of weeping.