30 “But now those who are younger than I have me in derision,
    whose fathers I considered unworthy to put with my sheep dogs.
² Of what use is the strength of their hands to me,
    men in whom ripe age has perished?
³ They are gaunt from lack and famine.
    They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.
⁴ They pluck salt herbs by the bushes.
    The roots of the broom tree are their food.
⁵ They are driven out from among men.
    They cry after them as after a thief;
⁶ So that they dwell in frightful valleys,
    and in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
⁷ They bray among the bushes.
    They are gathered together under the nettles.
⁸ They are children of fools, yes, children of wicked men.
    They were flogged out of the land.

⁹ “Now I have become their song.
    Yes, I am a byword to them.
¹⁰ They abhor me, they stand aloof from me,
    and don’t hesitate to spit in my face.
¹¹ For he has untied his cord, and afflicted me;
    and they have thrown off restraint before me.
¹² On my right hand rise the rabble.
    They thrust aside my feet,
    They cast up against me their ways of destruction.
¹³ They mar my path.
    They promote my destruction
    without anyone’s help.
¹⁴ As through a wide breach they come.
    They roll themselves in amid the ruin.
¹⁵ Terrors have turned on me.
    They chase my honor as the wind.
    My welfare has passed away as a cloud.