1But now they that are younger than I have me in derision,
2Yea, whereto might the strength of their hands profit me,
3For want and famine they were solitary;
4Who cut up mallows by the bushes,
5They were driven forth from among men,
6To dwell in the clifts of the valleys,
7Among the bushes they brayed;
8They were children of fools, yea, children of base men:
9And now am I their song,
10They abhor me, they flee far from me,
11Because he hath loosed my cord, and afflicted me,
12Upon my right hand rise the youth;
13They mar my path,
14They came upon me as a wide breaking in of waters:
15Terrors are turned upon me:
16And now my soul is poured out upon me;
17My bones are pierced in me in the night season:
18By the great force of my disease is my garment changed:
19He hath cast me into the mire,
20I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me:
21Thou art become cruel to me:
22Thou liftest me up to the wind; thou causest me to ride upon it,
23For I know that thou wilt bring me to death,
24Howbeit he will not stretch out his hand to the grave,
25Did not I weep for him that was in trouble?
26When I looked for good, then evil came unto me:
27My bowels boiled, and rested not:
28I went mourning without the sun:
29I am a brother to dragons,
30My skin is black upon me,
31My harp also is turned to mourning,