Job 30
New Living Translation
Job Speaks of His Anguish
30 “But now I am mocked by people younger than I,
by young men whose fathers are not worthy to run with my sheepdogs.
2 A lot of good they are to me—
those worn-out wretches!
3 They are gaunt from poverty and hunger.
They claw the dry ground in desolate wastelands.
4 They pluck wild greens from among the bushes
and eat from the roots of broom trees.
5 They are driven from human society,
and people shout at them as if they were thieves.
6 So now they live in frightening ravines,
in caves and among the rocks.
7 They sound like animals howling among the bushes,
huddled together beneath the nettles.
8 They are nameless fools,
outcasts from society.
9 “And now they mock me with vulgar songs!
They taunt me!
10 They despise me and won’t come near me,
except to spit in my face.
11 For God has cut my bowstring.
He has humbled me,
so they have thrown off all restraint.
12 These outcasts oppose me to my face.
They send me sprawling
and lay traps in my path.
13 They block my road
and do everything they can to destroy me.
They know I have no one to help me.
14 They come at me from all directions.
They jump on me when I am down.
15 I live in terror now.
My honor has blown away in the wind,
and my prosperity has vanished like a cloud.
16 “And now my life seeps away.
Depression haunts my days.
17 At night my bones are filled with pain,
which gnaws at me relentlessly.
18 With a strong hand, God grabs my shirt.[a]
He grips me by the collar of my coat.
19 He has thrown me into the mud.
I’m nothing more than dust and ashes.
20 “I cry to you, O God, but you don’t answer.
I stand before you, but you don’t even look.
21 You have become cruel toward me.
You use your power to persecute me.
22 You throw me into the whirlwind
and destroy me in the storm.
23 And I know you are sending me to my death—
the destination of all who live.
24 “Surely no one would turn against the needy
when they cry for help in their trouble.
25 Did I not weep for those in trouble?
Was I not deeply grieved for the needy?
26 So I looked for good, but evil came instead.
I waited for the light, but darkness fell.
27 My heart is troubled and restless.
Days of suffering torment me.
28 I walk in gloom, without sunlight.
I stand in the public square and cry for help.
29 Instead, I am considered a brother to jackals
and a companion to owls.
30 My skin has turned dark,
and my bones burn with fever.
31 My harp plays sad music,
and my flute accompanies those who weep.
Footnotes
- 30:18 As in Greek version; Hebrew reads hand, my garment is disfigured.
Job 30
Common English Bible
Mockers
30 But now those younger than I mock me,
whose fathers I refused to put beside my sheepdogs.
2 Their strength, what’s it to me,
their energy having perished?
3 Stiff from want and hunger,
those who gnaw dry ground,
yesterday’s desolate waste,
4 who pluck off the leaves on a bush,
the root of the broom—
a shrub is their food.
5 People banish them from society,
shout at them as if to a thief;
6 so they live in scary ravines,
holes in the ground and rocks.
7 Among shrubs, they make sounds like donkeys;
they are huddled together under a bush,
8 children of fools and the nameless,
whipped out of the land.
Specific mocking behavior
9 And now I’m their song;
I’m their cliché!
10 They detest me, keep their distance,
don’t withhold spit from my face.
11 Because he loosened my bowstring and afflicted me,
they throw off restraint in my presence.
12 On the right, upstarts[a] rise and target my feet,
build their siege ramps against me,
13 destroy my road, profit from my fall,
with no help.
14 They advance as if through a destroyed wall;[b]
they roll along beneath the ruin.
15 Terrors crash upon me;
they sweep away my honor like wind;
my safety disappears like a cloud.
Accusation against God
16 Now my life is poured out on me;
days of misery have seized me.
17 At night he bores my bones;
my gnawing pain won’t rest.
18 With great force he grasps[c] my clothing;[d]
it binds me like the neck of my shirt.
19 He hurls me into mud;
I’m a cliché, like dust and ashes.
20 I cry to you, and you don’t answer;
I stand up, but you just look at me.
21 You are cruel to me,
attack me with the strength of your hand.
22 You lift me to the wind and make me ride;
you melt me in its roar.
23 I know you will return me to death,
the house appointed for all the living.
Job’s agony
24 Surely he won’t strike someone in ruins
if in distress he cries out to him,
25 if I didn’t weep for those who have a difficult day
or my soul grieve for the needy;
26 for I awaited good, but evil came;
I expected light, but gloom arrived.
27 My insides, churning, are never quiet;
days of affliction confront me.
28 I walk in the dark, lacking sunshine;
I rise in the assembly and cry out.
29 I have become a brother to jackals,
a companion to young ostriches.
30 My skin is charred;
my bones are scorched by the heat.
31 My lyre is for mourning,
my flute, a weeping sound.
Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2011 by Common English Bible