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30:1 'But now they make sport of me, men who are younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock. 30:2 What could I gain from the strength of their hands, men whose vigor is gone? 30:3 Through want and hard hunger they gnaw the dry and desolate ground; 30:4 they pick mallow and the leaves of bushes, and to warm themselves the roots of the broom. 30:5 They are driven out from among men;they shout after them as after a thief. 30:6 In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks. 30:7 Among the bushes they bray;under the nettles they huddle together. 30:8 A senseless, a disreputable brood, they have been whipped out of the land. 30:9 'And now I have become their song, I am a byword to them. 30:10 They abhor me, they keep aloof from me;they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me. 30:11 Because God has loosed my cord and humbled me, they have cast off restraint in my presence. 30:12 On my right hand the rabble rise, they drive me forth, they cast up against me their ways of destruction. 30:13 They break up my path, they promote my calamity;no one restrains them. 30:14 As through a wide breach they come;amid the crash they roll on. 30:15 Terrors are turned upon me;my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. 30:16 'And now my soul is poured out within me;days of affliction have taken hold of me. 30:17 The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest. 30:18 With violence it seizes my garment;it binds me about like the collar of my tunic. 30:19 God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. 30:20 I cry to thee and thou dost not answer me;I stand, and thou dost not heed me. 30:21 Thou hast turned cruel to me;with the might of thy hand thou dost persecute me. 30:22 Thou liftest me up on the wind, thou makest me ride on it, and thou tossest me about in the roar of the storm. 30:23 Yea, I know that thou wilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. 30:24 'Yet does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help? 30:25 Did not I weep for him whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the poor? 30:26 But when I looked for good, evil came;and when I waited for light, darkness came. 30:27 My heart is in turmoil, and is never still;days of affliction come to meet me. 30:28 I go about blackened, but not by the sun;I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help. 30:29 I am a brother of jackals, and a companion of ostriches. 30:30 My skin turns black and falls from me, and my bones burn with heat. 30:31 My lyre is turned to mourning, and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.