NSB(i) 1 »Men younger than I am make fun of me now! Their fathers have always been so worthless that I would not let them help dogs guard sheep. 2 »They were a bunch of worn-out men, too weak to do any work for me. 3 »Shriveled up from need and hunger, they gnaw at the dry and barren ground during the night. 4 »They pick mallow (salt herb) from the underbrush, and the roots of the broom plant are their food. 5 »They are driven from the community. People shout at them in the same way they shout at thieves. 6 »They have to live in dry riverbeds (the clefts of the valleys) (wadis), in holes in the ground, and among rocks. 7 »They howl in bushes and huddle together under thorn bushes. 8 »Godless fools and worthless people are forced out of the land with whips. 9 »Now they make fun of me with songs. I have become a joke to them. 10 »Since they consider me disgusting, they keep their distance from me and don't hesitate to spit in my face. 11 »Because God has untied my cord and has made me suffer, they are no longer restrained in my presence. 12 »They have attacked me on my right side like a mob. They trip my feet and then prepare ways to destroy me. 13 »They break up my path, they promote my calamity and no one restrains them! 14 »As through a wide breach they come. Amid the crash they roll on. 15 »Terrorists turn on me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud. 16 »Now I am poured out, the days of affliction have taken hold of me. 17 »The night racks my bones, and the pain that eats at me takes no rest. 18 »With violence it seizes my garment. It binds me about like the collar of my tunic. 19 »God has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes. 20 »I cry to you and you do not answer me! I stand, and you do not heed me. 21 »You have turned cruel to me. With the might of your hand you appose me. 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. 23 »Yes, I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living. 24 »Does not one in a heap of ruins stretch out his hand, Or in his disaster cry out for help? 25 »Have I not wept for the one whose life is hard? Was I not grieved for the needy? 26 »When I expected good evil came. When I waited for light darkness came. 27 »I am seething within and cannot relax! Days of affliction confront me. 28 »I go about mourning without comfort. I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help. 29 »I am a brother to jackals and a companion of ostriches. 30 »My skin grows black on me and my bones burn with fever. 31 »Therefore my harp is turned to mourning, and my flute to the sound of those who weep.