Job 30:1-15

But now they mock   me, men younger than I am, whose fathers I would have refused to put with my sheep dogs. What use to me was the strength of their hands? Their vigor had left them. Emaciated from poverty and hunger, they gnawed the dry land, the desolate wasteland by night. They plucked mallow  , among the shrubs, and the roots of the broom tree were their food. They were banished from human society; people shouted at them as if they were thieves. They are living on the slopes of the wadis, among the rocks and in holes in the ground. They bray among the shrubs; they huddle beneath the thistles. Foolish  men, without even a name. They were forced to leave the land. Now I am mocked by their songs;  I have become an object of scorn to them. They despise me and keep their distance from me;  they do not hesitate to spit  in my face. Because God has loosened my   bowstring and oppressed me, they have cast off restraint in my presence.  The rabble  rise up at my right; they trap  my feet and construct their siege ramp  against me.  They tear up my path; they contribute to my destruction,  without anyone to help them. They advance as through a gaping breach; they keep rolling in through the ruins.  Terrors  are turned loose against me; they chase my dignity away like the wind, and my prosperity has passed by like a cloud.