Moff by section JOB 30:9

⌂ ← JOB 30:9–30:31 → ║ ═ ©

Job 30

I am the butt of their songs,

I am a byword among them;

they loathe me, hold aloof from me,

and at the sight of me spit in disgust.

They have unstrung me and undone me,

with their unbridled onset;

a rabble rises against me,

they set on to besiege me,

they cut off my escape,

determined to destroy me;

and, loose to all restraints,

they pour in at the open breach,

rushing upon me through the ruined wall.

Thus terrors are let loose on me;

my happiness is blown away,

and like a cloud my welfare disappears.

So now my soul within me melts with sorrow,

misery masters me;

the bones are rotting in my body,

the pain that gnaws me never slumbers;

my skin is wrinkled with the fell disease,

drawn tight over my limbs.

God has plunged me in the mud,

I am reduced to dust and ashes.

Thou wilt not answer when I cry,

thou hast ceased to care for me;

thou hast turned cruel to me,

thou layest thy heavy lash on me,

thou tossest me before the wind,

I break up under the blast;

for I know thou wilt house me with death,

where all the living have to dwell.

And yet a sinking man will stretch his hand,

crying for help in his calamity.

Will not a man in trouble weep?

Is not the soul of the forlorn distressed?

I hoped for good, and evil came,

I waited for the light, and darkness fell;

my heart is hot and restless,

misery faces me;

I wail, with none to comfort me,

fit company for howling jackals,

for any pack of wolves,

for screaming ostriches.

My skin is peeling off me blackened,

my limbs burn with the fever,

my dances turn to dirges,

my lyrics to laments.

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