[1] "But now those who are younger than I, have me in derision,    Whose
fathers I would have disdained to put with my sheep dogs. [2] Of what use
is the strength of their hands to me,	 Men in whom ripe age has perished?
[3] They are gaunt from lack and famine.    They gnaw the dry ground, in
the gloom of waste and desolation. [4] They pluck salt herbs by the bushes.
    The roots of the broom are their food. [5] They are driven forth from
the midst of men;    They cry after them as after a thief; [6] So that they
dwell in frightful valleys,    And in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
[7] Among the bushes they bray;    And under the nettles they are gathered
together. [8] They are children of fools, yes, children of base men.   
They were flogged out of the land. [9] "Now I have become their song.	
Yes, I am a byword to them. [10] They abhor me, they stand aloof from me,  
 And don`t hesitate to spit in my face. [11] For he has loosed his cord,
and afflicted me;    And they have thrown off restraint before me. [12] On
my right hand rise the rabble.	  They thrust aside my feet,	They cast
up against me their ways of destruction. [13] They mar my path,    They set
forward my calamity,	Without anyone`s help. [14] As through a wide
breach they come,    In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves in. [15]
Terrors are turned on me.    They chase my honor as the wind.	 My welfare
has passed away as a cloud. [16] "Now my soul is poured out within me.	 
Days of affliction have taken hold on me. [17] In the night season my bones
are pierced in me,    And the pains that gnaw me take no rest. [18] By
great force is my garment disfigured.	 It binds me about as the collar of
my coat. [19] He has cast me into the mire.    I have become like dust and
ashes. [20] I cry to you, and you do not answer me.    I stand up, and you
gaze at me. [21] You have turned to be cruel to me.    With the might of
your hand you persecute me. [22] You lift me up to the wind, and drive me
with it.    You dissolve me in the storm. [23] For I know that you will
bring me to death,    To the house appointed for all living. [24] "However
doesn`t one stretch out a hand in his fall?    Or in his calamity therefore
cry for help? [25] Didn`t I weep for him who was in trouble?	Wasn`t my
soul grieved for the needy? [26] When I looked for good, then evil came;   
When I waited for light, there came darkness. [27] My heart is troubled,
and doesn`t rest.     Days of affliction have come on me. [28] I go
mourning without the sun.    I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
[29] I am a brother to jackals,    And a companion to ostriches. [30] My
skin grows black and peels from me.    My bones are burned with heat. [31]
Therefore is my harp turned to mourning,    And my pipe into the voice of
those who weep.