1. But, now, they who are of fewer days than I, have poured derision upon me; whose fathers I refused -- to set with the dogs of my flock.
2. Even the strength of their hands, wherefore was it mine? Upon them, vigour was lost;
3. In want and hunger, they were lean, -- who used to gnaw the dry ground, a dark night of desolation!
4. Who used to pluck off the mallow by the bushes, with the root of the broom for their food;
5. Out of the midst, were they driven, men shouted after them, as after a thief;
6. In the fissures, of the ravines had they to dwell, in holes of dust and crags;
7. Among the bushes, used they to shriek, Under the bramble, were they huddled together:
8. Sons of the base, yea sons of the nameless, they were scourged out of the land.
9. But, now, their song, have I become, Yea I serve them for a byword;
10. They abhor me -- have put themselves far from me, and, from my face, have not withheld -- spittle!
11. Because, my girdle, he had loosened and had humbled me, therefore, the bridle -- in my presence, cast they off;
12. On my right hand, the young brood rose up, -- My feet, they thrust aside, and cast up against me their earthworks of destruction;
13. They brake up my path, -- My engulfing ruin, they helped forward, unaided;
14. As through a wide breach, came they on, with a crashing noise, they rolled themselves along.
15. There are turned upon me terrors, -- Chased away as with a wind, is mine abundance, and, as a cloud, hath passed away my prosperity.
16. Now, therefore, over myself, my soul poureth itself out, There seize me days of affliction:
17. Night, boreth, my bones, all over me, -- and, my sinews, find no rest;
18. Most effectually, is my skin disfigured, -- Like the collar of my tunic, it girdeth me about:
19. He hath cast me into the mire, and I have become like dust and ashes.
20. I cry out for help unto thee, and thou dost not answer, I stand still, and thou dost gaze at me;
21. Thou art turned to become a cruel one unto me, With the might of thy hand, thou assailest me;
22. Thou liftest up me to the wind, thou carriest me away, and the storm maketh me faint;
23. For I know that, unto death, thou wilt bring me back, even unto the house of meeting for every one living.
24. Only, against a heap of ruins, will one not thrust a hand! Surely, when one is in calamity -- for that very reason, is there an outcry for help.
25. Verily I wept, for him whose lot was hard, Grieved was my soul, for the needy.
26. Surely, for good, I looked, but there came in evil, And I waited for light, but there came in darkness;
27. I boiled within me, and rested not, There confronted me -- days of affliction;
28. In gloom, I walked along, without sun, I arose -- in the convocation, I cried out for help;
29. A brother, became I to the brutes that howl, and a companion to the birds that screech:
30. My skin, turned black, and peeled off me, and, my bones, burned with heat:
31. Thus is attuned to mourning -- my lyre, and my flute, to the noise of them who weep.