Free Bible Version
Job • Chapter 30
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But now people much younger than me laugh at me; people whose fathers I would not put to work with my sheepdogs.
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They are too weak to be any use to me; they're all worn-out.
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Thin through hunger and want, they try to eat the dry ground in the dark, desolate wilderness.
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There they pick desert herbs and the leaves of bushes, and eat the roots of broom trees.
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People shouted after them as if they were thieves. They have to live in dangerous ravines, in caves and among the rocks.
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They shout out like animals among the bushes; they huddle together in the weeds for shelter.
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They are foolish, nameless people that have been driven from the land.
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Yet now they mock me in their songs; I have become a joke to them!
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They despise and shun me; they don't hesitate to spit in my face.
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The rabble rise up against me, they send me running; like a city under siege they devise ways to destroy me.
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They cut off my way of escape; they bring about my downfall and do this without anyone's help.
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They come in through a wide breach; they rush in as the wall comes tumbling down.
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Terrors overcome me; my honor is blown away by the wind; my salvation vanishes like a cloud.
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And now my life is ebbing away; every day despair grips me.
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At night my bones are in agony; the pain gnaws at me and never stops.
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God (Elohim) grabs me roughly by my clothes; he pulls me by the collar of my shirt.
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He has thrown me in the mud; he has humbled me like dust and ashes.
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God (Elohim), I cry to you but you don't answer; I stand before you, but you don't even notice me.
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You have turned cruel to me; you use your power to make me suffer.
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You pick me up and blow me along in the wind; tossing me about in the whirlwind.
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I know you're taking me to my death, to the place where all the living go.
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Who would want to kick a man when he is down, when they cry for help in their time of trouble?
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Didn't I weep for those having hard times? Didn't I grieve at what the poor suffered?
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But when I looked for good, only evil came, and when I waited for the light, all that came was darkness.
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Inside I am in turmoil, it never stops; I face days of despair.
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I am so depressed; seeing the sun doesn't help. I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
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I am like a brother to the jackals, a companion to owls.
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My skin turns black on me; and my bones burn within me.
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My lyre only plays sad songs, and my pipe is the voice of those who weep.