Job 30:8-31 Sons of decadence, even sons of those without a name, They were cut off from the land.

CLV⁽ⁱ⁾ ⁸ Sons of decadence, even sons of those without a name, They were cut off from the land. ⁹ And now I have become their musical accompaniment, And I have become a mocking declaration of theirs. ¹⁰ They abhor me; they keep far from me, Yet they do not keep back their spit from my face. ¹¹ Now that He has unloosed His cord about me and is humbling me, They have let the restraining bridle go in my presence. ¹² On the right hand the vile brood rise up; They have let my feet go, And they heap up their paths of calamity against me. ¹³ They have torn up my own track; They reinforce my woe; No one is restraining them. ¹⁴ As through a wide breach they arrive against me; They have rolled themselves forward under the ruinations. ¹⁵ Decadent things have turned against me; My patronage status is pursued as by the wind, And my salvation has passed away like a thick cloud. ¹⁶ And now, my soul is poured out upon me; Days of humiliation are taking hold of me. ¹⁷ The night picks at my bones all over me, And my gnawing pains never lie still. ¹⁸ With His great vigor He grasps my clothing; He belts me up like the slit of my tunic. ¹⁹ He has shot me down into the clay, So that I am made comparable to soil and ashes. ²⁰ I implore to You, yet You do not answer me; I stand up, yet You do not consider me. ²¹ You are turned to be cruel to me; With the staunchness of Your hand, You assail me. ²² You lift me up into the wind and make me ride on it, And You dissolve me in the tumult. ²³ I know that You are turning me back to death, To that house appointed for all the living. ²⁴ Yea I did not put forth my hand against the humble, If in his misfortune he is imploring to me. ²⁵ Would I not lament for one in hardship of days? My soul was always sorry for the needy. ²⁶ Indeed I expected good, yet evil came, And I waited for light, yet gloom has come instead. ²⁷ My bowels, they boil and are not still; Days of humiliation confront me. ²⁸ I go about in somberness without sunshine; I rise up in the assembly and implore. ²⁹ I have become a brother to wild jackals, And an associate to the ostrich. ³⁰ My skin, it blackens and falls from me, And my bones burn hot as in a drought. ³¹ My harp has become mourning, And my shepherd's pipe the sound of those lamenting.