And now, those younger than me in days, whose fathers I disdained to place with the sheepdogs, mock me.

Also, the strength of their hands, why is it for me? For them, all vigor has perished.

In want and in famine, they are solitary, they gnaw the dry land, yesterday devastation and ruin.

They pluck saltwort among bushes, and the root of broom trees is their food.

From the ravines they are driven out; they cry out against them like thieves.

In the ravines of wadis they dwell, in holes of dust and the earth.

Among bushes they groan; under thorns they are gathered.

Sons of a worthless man, also sons of no name, they are disgraced from the earth.

And now, their song I have become, and I am a proverb to them.

They abhor me, they keep far from me, and from my face they do not withhold spitting.

For [my] strength is loosened, and He afflicted me; they have cast off the bridle from me.

On the right, the rabble arise; my feet they have set loose, and they have paved against me paths of destruction.

They have broken my paths, for my ruin; they are of no help to them.

Like a wide breach they come; under ruin they roll themselves.

Terrors turn against me; my spirit pursues like the wind, and my salvation has passed like a cloud.

And now, upon me my soul is poured out; the days of affliction seize me.

At night my bones are pierced from me, and my sinews do not lie down.

With great force my garment is disfigured, like the binding of my tunic it girds me.

He has cast me into the mud, and I have become like dust and ashes.

I cry out to You, and You do not answer me; I stand, and You observe me.

You turn cruel to me; with the might of Your hand You hate me.

You lift me to the wind, You make me ride, and You dissolve me in the storm.

For I know that You will bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all the living.

Surely, not against a ruin does He stretch out His hand, or if they cry out for help in His destruction.

If I did not weep for the hard day, my soul grieved for the poor.

For when I hoped for good, evil came; and I looked for light, and darkness came.

My insides churned and did not cease; the days of affliction preceded me.

I walk blackened, without the sun; I have risen in the assembly, I cry out.

I have become a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches.

My skin has blackened from me, and my bones are hot from dryness.

And my lyre has become mourning, and my pipe a voice of weeping.