Job 30

¹But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, Whose fathers I disdained to set with the dogs of my flock.

²Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age is perished.

³They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation.

⁴They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; And the roots of the broom are their food.

⁵They are driven forth from the midst of men; They cry after them as after a thief;

⁶So that they dwell in frightful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks.

⁷Among the bushes they bray; Under the nettles they are gathered together.

⁸They are children of fools, yea, children of base men; They were scourged out of the land.

⁹And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them.

¹⁰They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, And spare not to spit in my face.

¹¹For he hath loosed his cord, and afflicted me; And they have cast off the bridle before me.

¹²Upon my right hand rise the rabble; They thrust aside my feet, And they cast up against me their ways of destruction.

¹³They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, Even men that have no helper.

¹⁴As through a wide breach they come: In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves upon me.