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Listen to this chapter • 3:15

[1] “But now they mock me, men younger than I am, whose fathers I would have refused to entrust with my sheep dogs.

[2] What use to me was the strength of their hands, since their vigor had left them?

[3] Gaunt from poverty and hunger, they gnawed the dry land, and the desolate wasteland by night.

[4] They plucked mallow among the shrubs, and the roots of the broom tree were their food.

[5] They were banished from among men, shouted down like thieves,

[6] so that they lived on the slopes of the wadis, among the rocks and in holes in the ground.

[7] They cried out among the shrubs and huddled beneath the nettles.

[8] A senseless and nameless brood, they were driven off the land.

[9] And now they mock me in song; I have become a byword among them.

[10] They abhor me and keep far from me; they do not hesitate to spit in my face.

[11] Because God has unstrung my bow and afflicted me, they have cast off restraint in my presence.

[12] The rabble arises at my right; they lay snares for my feet and build siege ramps against me.

[13] They tear up my path; they profit from my destruction, with no one to restrain them.

[14] They advance as through a wide breach; through the ruins they keep rolling in.

[15] Terrors are turned loose against me; they drive away my dignity as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed like a cloud.

[16] And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction grip me.

[17] Night pierces my bones, and my gnawing pains never rest.

[18] With great force He grasps my garment; He seizes me by the collar of my tunic.

[19] He throws me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes.

[20] I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer; when I stand up, You merely look at me.

[21] You have ruthlessly turned on me; You oppose me with Your strong hand.

[22] You snatch me up into the wind and drive me before it; You toss me about in the storm.

[23] Yes, I know that You will bring me down to death, to the place appointed for all the living.

[24] Yet no one stretches out his hand to a ruined man when he cries for help in his distress.

[25] Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has my soul not grieved for the needy?

[26] But when I hoped for good, evil came; when I looked for light, darkness fell.

[27] I am churning within and cannot rest; days of affliction confront me.

[28] I go about blackened, but not by the sun. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.

[29] I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of ostriches.

[30] My skin grows black and peels, and my bones burn with fever.

[31] My harp is tuned to mourning and my flute to the sound of weeping.

Job — Chapters