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29 Iyov went on speaking:

“I wish I were as in the old days,
back in the times when God watched over me;
when his lamp shone over my head,
and I walked through the dark by its light;
as I was when I was young,
and God’s counsel graced my tent.
Then Shaddai was still with me,
my children were around me;
my steps were awash in butter,
and the rocks poured out for me streams of olive oil.
I would go out to the city gate
and set up my seat in the open space;
when young men saw me they would hide themselves,
while the aged arose and stood;
leaders refrained from speaking —
they would lay their hands on their mouths;
10 the voices of nobles were silenced;
their tongues stuck to their palates.
11 Any ear that heard me blessed me,
any eye that saw me gave witness to me,
12 for I delivered the poor when they cried for assistance,
the orphan too, who had no one to help him.
13 Those who had been about to die would bless me,
and I made widows sing in their hearts for joy.
14 I clothed myself with righteousness, and it clothed itself with me;
my justice was like a robe and a crown.
15 I was eyes for the blind,
and I was feet for the lame.
16 I was a father to the needy,
and I investigated the problems of those I didn’t know.
17 I broke the jaws of the unrighteous
and snatched the prey from his teeth.
18 “I said, ‘I will die with my nest,
and I will live as long as a phoenix;
19 my root will spread till it reaches water,
and dew will stay all night on my branch;
20 my glory will always be fresh,
my bow always new in my hand.’

21 “People would listen to me;
they waited and were silent when I gave advice.
22 After I spoke, they didn’t talk back;
my words were like drops [of dew] on them.
23 They waited for me as if for rain,
as if for spring rain, with their mouths open wide.
24 When I joked with them, they couldn’t believe it;
and they never darkened the light on my face.
25 I chose their way [for them], sitting as chief;
I lived like a king in the army,
like one who comforts mourners.

30 “But now those younger than I
hold me in derision,
men whose fathers I wouldn’t even
have put with the dogs that guarded my sheep.
What use to me was the strength in their hands?
All their vigor had left them.
Worn out by want and hunger,
they gnaw the dry ground in the gloom
of waste and desolation.
They pluck saltwort and bitter leaves;
these, with broom tree roots, are their food.
They are driven away from society,
with men shouting after them as after a thief,
to live in gullies and vadis,
in holes in the ground and caves in the rocks.
Among the bushes they howl like beasts
and huddle among the nettles,
irresponsible nobodies
driven from the land.

“Now I have become their song;
yes, I am a byword with them.
10 They loathe me, they stand aloof from me;
they don’t hesitate to spit in my face!
11 For God has loosened my bowstring and humbled me;
they throw off restraint in my presence.
12 At my right the street urchins attack,
pushing me from place to place,
besieging me with their ways of destruction,
13 breaking up my path,
furthering my calamity —
even those who have no one to help them.
14 They move in as through a wide gap;
amid the ruin they roll on in waves.
15 Terrors tumble over me,
chasing my honor away like the wind;
my [hope of] salvation passes like a cloud.

16 “So now my life is ebbing away,
days of grief have seized me.
17 At night pain pierces me to the bone,
so that I never rest.
18 My clothes are disfigured by the force [of my disease];
they choke me like the collar of my coat.
19 [God] has thrown me into the mud;
I have become like dust and ashes.

20 “I call out to you [God], but you don’t answer me;
I stand up to plead, but you just look at me.
21 You have turned cruelly against me;
with your powerful hand you keep persecuting me.
22 You snatch me up on the wind and make me ride it;
you toss me about in the tempest.
23 For I know that you will bring me to death,
the house assigned to everyone living.

24 “Surely [God] wouldn’t strike at a ruin,
if in one’s calamity one cried out to him for help.
25 Didn’t I weep for those who were in trouble?
Didn’t I grieve for the needy?
26 Yet when I hoped for good, what came was bad;
when I expected light, what came was darkness.
27 My insides are in turmoil; they can’t find rest;
days of misery confront me.
28 I go about in sunless gloom,
I rise in the assembly and cry for help.
29 I have become a brother to jackals
and a companion of ostriches.
30 My skin is black and falling off me,
and my bones are burning with heat.
31 So my lyre is tuned for mourning,
my pipe to the voice of those who weep.

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