Job 30:1-22 - Compare All Versions

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“But now they mock me, men younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to put with my sheep dogs. Of what use was the strength of their hands to me, since their vigor had gone from them? Haggard from want and hunger, they roamed the parched land in desolate wastelands at night. In the brush they gathered salt herbs, and their food was the root of the broom bush. They were banished from human society, shouted at as if they were thieves. They were forced to live in the dry stream beds, among the rocks and in holes in the ground. They brayed among the bushes and huddled in the undergrowth. A base and nameless brood, they were driven out of the land. “And now those young men mock me in song; I have become a byword among them. They detest me and keep their distance; they do not hesitate to spit in my face. Now that God has unstrung my bow and afflicted me, they throw off restraint in my presence. On my right the tribe attacks; they lay snares for my feet, they build their siege ramps against me. They break up my road; they succeed in destroying me. ‘No one can help him,’ they say. They advance as through a gaping breach; amid the ruins they come rolling in. Terrors overwhelm me; my dignity is driven away as by the wind, my safety vanishes like a cloud. “And now my life ebbs away; days of suffering grip me. Night pierces my bones; my gnawing pains never rest. In his great power God becomes like clothing to me; he binds me like the neck of my garment. He throws me into the mud, and I am reduced to dust and ashes. “I cry out to you, God, but you do not answer; I stand up, but you merely look at me. You turn on me ruthlessly; with the might of your hand you attack me. You snatch me up and drive me before the wind; you toss me about in the storm.

“But now they laugh at me, men who are younger than I, whose fathers I would have disdained to set with the dogs of my flock. What could I gain from the strength of their hands, men whose vigor is gone? Through want and hard hunger they gnaw the dry ground by night in waste and desolation; they pick saltwort and the leaves of bushes, and the roots of the broom tree for their food. They are driven out from human company; they shout after them as after a thief. In the gullies of the torrents they must dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks. Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they huddle together. A senseless, a nameless brood, they have been whipped out of the land. “And now I have become their song; I am a byword to them. They abhor me; they keep aloof from me; they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me. Because God has loosed my cord and humbled me, they have cast off restraint in my presence. On my right hand the rabble rise; they push away my feet; they cast up against me their ways of destruction. They break up my path; they promote my calamity; they need no one to help them. As through a wide breach they come; amid the crash they roll on. Terrors are turned upon me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. “And now my soul is poured out within me; days of affliction have taken hold of me. The night racks my bones, and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest. With great force my garment is disfigured; it binds me about like the collar of my tunic. God has cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes. I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand, and you only look at me. You have turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you persecute me. You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.

“But now I am mocked by people younger than I, by young men whose fathers are not worthy to run with my sheepdogs. A lot of good they are to me— those worn-out wretches! They are gaunt from poverty and hunger. They claw the dry ground in desolate wastelands. They pluck wild greens from among the bushes and eat from the roots of broom trees. They are driven from human society, and people shout at them as if they were thieves. So now they live in frightening ravines, in caves and among the rocks. They sound like animals howling among the bushes, huddled together beneath the nettles. They are nameless fools, outcasts from society. “And now they mock me with vulgar songs! They taunt me! They despise me and won’t come near me, except to spit in my face. For God has cut my bowstring. He has humbled me, so they have thrown off all restraint. These outcasts oppose me to my face. They send me sprawling and lay traps in my path. They block my road and do everything they can to destroy me. They know I have no one to help me. They come at me from all directions. They jump on me when I am down. I live in terror now. My honor has blown away in the wind, and my prosperity has vanished like a cloud. “And now my life seeps away. Depression haunts my days. At night my bones are filled with pain, which gnaws at me relentlessly. With a strong hand, God grabs my shirt. He grips me by the collar of my coat. He has thrown me into the mud. I’m nothing more than dust and ashes. “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer. I stand before you, but you don’t even look. You have become cruel toward me. You use your power to persecute me. You throw me into the whirlwind and destroy me in the storm.

But now they mock   me, men younger than I am, whose fathers I would have refused to put with my sheep dogs. What use to me was the strength of their hands? Their vigor had left them. Emaciated from poverty and hunger, they gnawed the dry land, the desolate wasteland by night. They plucked mallow  , among the shrubs, and the roots of the broom tree were their food. They were banished from human society; people shouted at them as if they were thieves. They are living on the slopes of the wadis, among the rocks and in holes in the ground. They bray among the shrubs; they huddle beneath the thistles. Foolish  men, without even a name. They were forced to leave the land. Now I am mocked by their songs;  I have become an object of scorn to them. They despise me and keep their distance from me;  they do not hesitate to spit  in my face. Because God has loosened my   bowstring and oppressed me, they have cast off restraint in my presence.  The rabble  rise up at my right; they trap  my feet and construct their siege ramp  against me.  They tear up my path; they contribute to my destruction,  without anyone to help them. They advance as through a gaping breach; they keep rolling in through the ruins.  Terrors  are turned loose against me; they chase my dignity away like the wind, and my prosperity has passed by like a cloud. Now my life is poured out before me, and days of suffering  have seized me. Night pierces my bones, but my gnawing pains never rest.  My clothing is distorted with great force; he chokes me by the neck of my garment.  He throws me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes.  I cry out to you for help, but you do not answer me;  when I stand up, you merely look at me. You have turned against me with cruelty; you harass  me with your strong hand. You lift me up on the wind and make me ride it; you scatter me in the storm.

But now they that are younger than I have me in derision, Whose fathers I would have disdained to have set with the dogs of my flock. Yea, whereto might the strength of their hands profit me, In whom old age was perished? For want and famine they were solitary; Fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste. Who cut up mallows by the bushes, And juniper roots for their meat. They were driven forth from among men, (They cried after them as after a thief;) To dwell in the cliffs of the valleys, in caves of the earth, and in the rocks. Among the bushes they brayed; Under the nettles they were gathered together. They were children of fools, yea, children of base men: They were viler than the earth. And now am I their song, Yea, I am their byword. They abhor me, they flee far from me, And spare not to spit in my face. Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me, They have also let loose the bridle before me. Upon my right hand rise the youth; They push away my feet, And they raise up against me the ways of their destruction. They mar my path, They set forward my calamity, They have no helper. They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters: In the desolation they rolled themselves upon me. Terrors are turned upon me: They pursue my soul as the wind: And my welfare passeth away as a cloud. And now my soul is poured out upon me; The days of affliction have taken hold upon me. My bones are pierced in me in the night season: And my sinews take no rest. By the great force of my disease is my garment changed: It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat. He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes. I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me not. Thou art become cruel to me: With thy strong hand thou opposest thyself against me. Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride upon it, And dissolvest my substance.

“But now they mock at me, men younger than I, Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock. Indeed, what profit is the strength of their hands to me? Their vigor has perished. They are gaunt from want and famine, Fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste, Who pluck mallow by the bushes, And broom tree roots for their food. They were driven out from among men, They shouted at them as at a thief. They had to live in the clefts of the valleys, In caves of the earth and the rocks. Among the bushes they brayed, Under the nettles they nestled. They were sons of fools, Yes, sons of vile men; They were scourged from the land. “And now I am their taunting song; Yes, I am their byword. They abhor me, they keep far from me; They do not hesitate to spit in my face. Because He has loosed my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off restraint before me. At my right hand the rabble arises; They push away my feet, And they raise against me their ways of destruction. They break up my path, They promote my calamity; They have no helper. They come as broad breakers; Under the ruinous storm they roll along. Terrors are turned upon me; They pursue my honor as the wind, And my prosperity has passed like a cloud. “And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; The days of affliction take hold of me. My bones are pierced in me at night, And my gnawing pains take no rest. By great force my garment is disfigured; It binds me about as the collar of my coat. He has cast me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes. “I cry out to You, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You regard me. But You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You oppose me. You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride on it; You spoil my success.

“But no longer. Now I’m the butt of their jokes— young thugs! whippersnappers! Why, I considered their fathers mere inexperienced pups. But they are worse than dogs—good for nothing, stray, mangy animals, Half-starved, scavenging the back alleys, howling at the moon; Homeless ragamuffins chewing on old bones and licking old tin cans; Outcasts from the community, cursed as dangerous delinquents. Nobody would put up with them; they were driven from the neighborhood. You could hear them out there at the edge of town, yelping and barking, huddled in junkyards, A gang of beggars and no-names, thrown out on their ears. “But now I’m the one they’re after, mistreating me, taunting and mocking. They abhor me, they abuse me. How dare those scoundrels—they spit in my face! Now that God has undone me and left me in a heap, they hold nothing back. Anything goes. They come at me from my blind side, trip me up, then jump on me while I’m down. They throw every kind of obstacle in my path, determined to ruin me— and no one lifts a finger to help me! They violate my broken body, trample through the rubble of my ruined life. Terrors assault me— my dignity in shreds, salvation up in smoke. “And now my life drains out, as suffering seizes and grips me hard. Night gnaws at my bones; the pain never lets up. I am tied hand and foot, my neck in a noose. I twist and turn. Thrown facedown in the muck, I’m a muddy mess, inside and out. “I shout for help, God, and get nothing, no answer! I stand to face you in protest, and you give me a blank stare! You’ve turned into my tormenter— you slap me around, knock me about. You raised me up so I was riding high and then dropped me, and I crashed. I know you’re determined to kill me, to put me six feet under.

“But now those who are younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I refused to put with the dogs of my flock. “Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them. “From poverty and famine they are gaunt, They who gnaw at the dry ground by night in waste and desolation, Who pluck saltweed by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub. “They are driven from the community; They shout against them as against a thief, So that they live on the slopes of ravines, In holes in the ground and among the rocks. “Among the bushes they cry out; Under the weeds they are gathered together. “Worthless fellows, even those without a name, They were cast out from the land. ¶“And now I have become their taunt, And I have become a byword to them. “They loathe me and stand aloof from me, And they do not refrain from spitting in my face. “Because He has undone my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off the bridle before me. “On the right hand their mob arises; They push aside my feet and pile up their ways of destruction against me. “They break up my path, They promote my destruction; No one restrains them. “As through a wide gap they come, Amid the storm they roll on. “Sudden terrors are turned upon me; They chase away my dignity like the wind, And my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. ¶“And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of misery have seized me. “At night it pierces my bones within me, And my gnawing pains do not rest. “By a great force my garment is distorted; It ties me up like the collar of my coat. “He has thrown me into the mire, And I have become like dust and ashes. “I cry out to You for help, but You do not answer me; I stand up, and You turn Your attention against me. “You have become cruel to me; With the strength of Your hand You persecute me. “You lift me up to the wind and make me ride it; And You dissolve me in a storm.

“But now those younger than I mock and laugh at me, Whose fathers I refused to put with the sheepdogs of my flock. “Indeed, how could the strength of their hands profit me? Vigor had perished from them. “They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry and barren ground by night in [the gloom of] waste and desolation. “They pluck [and eat] saltwort (mallows) among the bushes, And their food is the root of the broom shrub. “They are driven from the community; They shout after them as after a thief. “They must dwell on the slopes of wadis And in holes in the ground and in rocks. “Among the bushes they cry out [like wild animals]; Beneath the prickly scrub they gather and huddle together. “They are the sons of [worthless and nameless] fools, They have been driven out of the land. ¶“And now I have become [the subject of] their taunting; Yes, I am a byword and a laughingstock to them. “They hate me, they stand aloof from me, And do not refrain from spitting in my face. “For God has loosed His bowstring [attacking me] and [He has] afflicted and humbled me; They have cast off the bridle [of restraint] before me. “On my right the [rabble] brood rises; They push my feet away, and they build up their ways of destruction against me [like an advancing army]. “They break up and clutter my path [upsetting my plans], They profit from my destruction; No one restrains them. “As through a wide breach they come, Amid the crash [of falling walls] they roll on [over me]. “Terrors are turned upon me; They chase away my honor and reputation like the wind, And my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. ¶“And now my soul is poured out within me; The days of affliction have seized me. “My bones are pierced [with aching] in the night season, And the pains that gnaw me take no rest. “By the great force [of my disease] my garment (skin) is disfigured and blemished; It binds about me [choking me] like the collar of my coat. “God has cast me into the mire [a swampland of crisis], And I have become [worthless] like dust and ashes. “I cry to You for help, [Lord,] but You do not answer me; I stand up, but You [only] gaze [indifferently] at me. “You have become harsh and cruel to me; With the might of Your hand You [keep me alive only to] persecute me. “You lift me up on the wind and cause me to ride [upon it]; And You toss me about in the tempest and dissolve me in the storm.

“But now they mock me, those who are younger than I, whose fathers I disdained too much to put with my sheep dogs. Moreover, the strength of their hands – what use was it to me? Men whose strength had perished; gaunt with want and hunger, they would gnaw the parched land, in former time desolate and waste. By the brush they would gather herbs from the salt marshes, and the root of the broom tree was their food. They were banished from the community – people shouted at them like they would shout at thieves – so that they had to live in the dry stream beds, in the holes of the ground, and among the rocks. They brayed like animals among the bushes and were huddled together under the nettles. Sons of senseless and nameless people, they were driven out of the land with whips. “And now I have become their taunt song; I have become a byword among them. They detest me and maintain their distance; they do not hesitate to spit in my face. Because God has untied my tent cord and afflicted me, people throw off all restraint in my presence. On my right the young rabble rise up; they drive me from place to place, and build up siege ramps against me. They destroy my path; they succeed in destroying me without anyone assisting them. They come in as through a wide breach; amid the crash they come rolling in. Terrors are turned loose on me; they drive away my honor like the wind, and like a cloud my deliverance has passed away. “And now my soul pours itself out within me; days of suffering take hold of me. Night pierces my bones; my gnawing pains never cease. With great power God grasps my clothing; he binds me like the collar of my tunic. He has flung me into the mud, and I have come to resemble dust and ashes. I cry out to you, but you do not answer me; I stand up, and you only look at me. You have become cruel to me; with the strength of your hand you attack me. You pick me up on the wind and make me ride on it; you toss me about in the storm.