Job 30

¹But now those who are younger than I make sport of me; those whose fathers I would not have put with the dogs of my flocks.

²Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.

³They are wasted for need of food, biting the dry earth; their only hope of life is in the waste land.

⁴They are pulling off the salt leaves from the brushwood, and making a meal of roots.

⁵They are sent out from among their townsmen, men are crying after them as thieves

⁶They have to get a resting-place in the hollows of the valleys, in holes of the earth and rocks.

⁷They make noises like asses among the brushwood; they get together under the thorns.

⁸They are sons of shame, and of men without a name, who have been forced out of the land.

⁹And now I have become their song, and I am a word of shame to them.

¹⁰I am disgusting to them; they keep away from me, and put marks of shame on me.

¹¹For he has made loose the cord of my bow, and put me to shame; he has sent down my flag to the earth before me.

¹²The lines of his men of war put themselves in order, and make high their ways of destruction against me:

¹³They have made waste my roads, with a view to my destruction; his bowmen come round about me;

¹⁴As through a wide broken place in the wall they come on, I am overturned by the shock of their attack.