Job 30
New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition
30 “But now they make sport of me,
those who are younger than I,
whose fathers I would have disdained
to set with the dogs of my flock.(A)
2 What could I gain from the strength of their hands?
All their vigor is gone.
3 Through want and hard hunger
they gnaw the dry and desolate ground;
4 they pick mallow and the leaves of bushes
and to warm themselves the roots of broom.
5 They are driven out from society;
people shout after them as after a thief.
6 In the gullies of wadis they must live,
in holes in the ground and in the rocks.
7 Among the bushes they bray;
under the nettles they huddle together.
8 A senseless, disreputable brood,
they have been whipped out of the land.
9 “And now they mock me in song;
I am a byword to them.(B)
10 They abhor me; they keep aloof from me;
they do not hesitate to spit at the sight of me.(C)
11 Because God has loosed my bowstring and humbled me,
they have cast off restraint in my presence.(D)
12 On my right hand the rabble rise up;
they send me sprawling
and build roads for my ruin.(E)
13 They break up my path;
they promote my calamity;
no one restrains[a] them.
14 As through a wide breach they come;
amid the crash they roll on.
15 Terrors are turned upon me;
my honor is pursued as by the wind,
and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.(F)
16 “And now my soul is poured out within me;
days of affliction have taken hold of me.(G)
17 The night racks my bones,
and the pain that gnaws me takes no rest.
18 With violence he seizes my garment;[b]
he grasps me by[c] the collar of my tunic.
19 He has cast me into the mire,
and I have become like dust and ashes.(H)
20 I cry to you, and you do not answer me;
I stand, and you merely look at me.(I)
21 You have turned cruel to me;
with the might of your hand you persecute me.(J)
22 You lift me up on the wind, you make me ride on it,
and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.(K)
23 I know that you will bring me to death,
to the house appointed for all living.(L)
24 “Surely one does not turn against the needy,[d]
when in disaster they cry for help.[e](M)
25 Did I not weep for those whose day was hard?
Was not my soul grieved for the poor?(N)
26 But when I looked for good, evil came,
and when I waited for light, darkness came.(O)
27 My inward parts are in turmoil and are never still;
days of affliction come to meet me.
28 I go about in sunless gloom;
I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.(P)
29 I am a brother of jackals
and a companion of ostriches.(Q)
30 My skin turns black and falls from me,
and my bones burn with heat.(R)
31 My lyre is turned to mourning
and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.(S)
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.
New Revised Standard Version, Updated Edition. Copyright © 2021 National Council of Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Copyright © 2011 by Common English Bible