JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41 C42

ULT JOB Chapter 30

◄ JOB 30 ► ║ ═ ©

30 But now the fewer in days than me laugh at me,

whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock.

2 Indeed, the strength of their hands, for what is it to me?

In them old age has perished.

3 They are gaunt from poverty and from hunger,

ones gnawing the dry land yesterday in waste and desolation,

4 ones plucking mallow among the brush,

and the root of broom trees is their bread.

5 They are driven out from the midst;

they shout after them as after a thief,

6 to dwell on the slope of wadis,

in holes of the dust and rocks.

7 Among the shrubs they bray;

they are gathered together under thorn bushes.

8 Sons of a fool, indeed, sons of one without a name!

They are scourged from the land.

9 But now I have become their song,

and I am a word for them.

10 They abhor me, they stay away from me,

but from my face they do not withhold spit.

11 For he has loosed my cord and humbled me,

so they cast away restraint from my face.

12 On my right the brood arise;

they thrust aside my foot,

and they pile up roads of destruction against me.

13 They destroy my path,

they advance my calamity;

there is no help for them.

14 As through a wide breach they come;

amid the ruin they roll on.

15 Terrors are turned against me;

each one pursues my dignity like the wind,

and my deliverance passes away like a cloud.

16 And now my life pours itself out within me;

days of affliction seize me.

17 Night pierces my bones from upon me,

and the ones gnawing me do not rest.

18 By great force my clothing is changed;

it binds me like the collar of my tunic.

19 He has thrown me into the mud,

and I have become like dust and ashes.

20 I cry to you, but you do not answer me;

I stand, but you gaze at me.

21 You have changed to be cruel to me;

with the strength of your hand you attack me.

22 You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it,

and you toss me about in a storm.

23 For I know you are bringing me to death

and to the house of appointment to all the living.

24 Nevertheless, does not one in a heap stretch out a hand?

If in his trouble he does not therefore cry out?

25 If I did not weep for the difficult of day?

My soul grieved for the needy.

26 For I hoped (for good, but bad came,

and let me wait for light, but darkness comes.

27 My innards are boiled and they do not rest;

days of affliction confront me.

28 I go about being dark not by the sun;

I stand up in the assembly and cry out.

29 I have become a brother to jackals

and a companion to the daughters of clamor.

30 My skin is black from upon me,

and my bone burns from heat.

31 So my harp is to mourning

and my flute to the sound of ones weeping.

JOB C1 C2 C3 C4 C5 C6 C7 C8 C9 C10 C11 C12 C13 C14 C15 C16 C17 C18 C19 C20 C21 C22 C23 C24 C25 C26 C27 C28 C29 C30 C31 C32 C33 C34 C35 C36 C37 C38 C39 C40 C41 C42