Job 30:1-15

“But now those who are younger than I mock me, Whose fathers I refused to put with the dogs of my flock. “Indeed, what good was the strength of their hands to me? Vigor had perished from them. “From poverty and famine they are gaunt, They who gnaw at the dry ground by night in waste and desolation, Who pluck saltweed by the bushes, And whose food is the root of the broom shrub. “They are driven from the community; They shout against them as against a thief, So that they live on the slopes of ravines, In holes in the ground and among the rocks. “Among the bushes they cry out; Under the weeds they are gathered together. “Worthless fellows, even those without a name, They were cast out from the land. ¶“And now I have become their taunt, And I have become a byword to them. “They loathe me and stand aloof from me, And they do not refrain from spitting in my face. “Because He has undone my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off the bridle before me. “On the right hand their mob arises; They push aside my feet and pile up their ways of destruction against me. “They break up my path, They promote my destruction; No one restrains them. “As through a wide gap they come, Amid the storm they roll on. “Sudden terrors are turned upon me; They chase away my dignity like the wind, And my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.