VIN(i)
1 "But now they mock me; men who are far younger than I, whose fathers I've would have hated to entrust with my own sheep dogs.
2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me? all force is gone from them.
3 Withered up through want and hunger, they flee into waste places long since desolate and desert:
4 They pluck salt herbs by the bushes. The roots of the broom are their food.
5 they are driven from the midst; they shouted against them as a thief;
6 They dwelt in the clifts of the valleys, in caves of the earth, and in the rocks.
7 They bray among the bushes; they huddle together under the nettles;
8 Sons of fools, and sons of nameless sires, they are driven out of the land.
9 "But now I am their mocking song, and I have become a byword for them.
10 They abhor me, they keep their distance from me, and do not hesitate to spit in my face.
11 But God has loosened his cord and afflicted me; so they've cast off all restraints in my presence.
12 On the right hand the brood rises up; they put me to flight, and they build up their siege ramps against me.
13 They mar my path. They promote my destruction without anyone's help.
14 They come in as through a wide breach: amid the confusion they roll themselves onward.
15 "Terrorists turn on me; my honor is pursued as by the wind, and my prosperity has passed away like a cloud.
16 And now my soul is melting within me. Days of sorrow take hold of me;
17 The night pierces my bones on me, and my gnawings never lie down.
18 With His great vigor He grasps my clothing; He belts me up like the slit of my tunic.
19 He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes.
20 I cry to you for help, but you do not answer me; I stand, and you merely look at me.
21 "You have turned cruel to me. With the might of your hand you appose me.
22 You lift me up to the wind—you make me ride it, and you toss me about in the storm.
23 "Yes, I know that you will bring me to death, to the house appointed for all living.
24 Surely he spreads not his hand to the prey, though they cry in his calamity.
25 Did I not weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor?
26 When I looked for good, then evil came; when I waited for light, there came darkness.
27 "I am seething within and cannot relax! Days of affliction confront me.
28 I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
29 I have become a brother to dragons and a companion to owls.
30 "My skin grows black on me and my bones burn with fever.
31 And my lyre has turned to mourning, and my flute to the sound of weeping.