וְעַתָּה שָׂחֲקוּ עָלַי צְעִירִים מִמֶּנִּי לְיָמִים אֲשֶׁר־מָאַסְתִּי אֲבוֹתָם לָשִׁית עִם־כַּלְבֵי צֹאנִי

But now even those younger in days than I laugh at me, and not merely youths, but those whose fathers I rejected from placing with the dogs of my flock. I would not have placed the fathers of these lads even among the dogs that guard my sheep.

גַּם־כֹּחַ יְדֵיהֶם לָמָּה לִּי עָלֵימוֹ אָבַד כָּלַח

In order to further illustrate his own degraded status, Job depicts in detail the inferiority and contemptibility of those who scorn him: The strength of their hands, too, why do I need it? It cannot help me. Vigor, power, freshness, and vitality, is lost to them. Despite their youth, their strength is exhausted.

בְּחֶסֶר וּבְכָפָן גַּלְמוּד הַעֹרְקִים צִיָּה אֶמֶשׁ שׁוֹאָה וּמְשֹׁאָה

They, those who despise me, are themselves in want, and in famine; they are lonely, fleeing in their disgrace to the wilderness, a place of gloom, destruction, and desolation,

הַקֹּטְפִים מַלּוּחַ עֲלֵי־שִׂיחַ וְשֹׁרֶשׁ רְתָמִים לַחְמָם

who pick saltwort, a desert shrub from which nomads living in the wilderness sustain themselves, from bushes; and the root of the retama is their food. They eat the roots of the shrub, or they use the roots of the shrub to warm themselves.

מִן־גֵּו יְגֹרָשׁוּ יָרִיעוּ עָלֵימוֹ כּגַּנָּב

They, those who despise me, are driven out from inside the city; they, the residents of the city, raise a cry at them, declaring their shame, like a thief.

בַּעֲרוּץ נְחָלִים לִשְׁכֹּן חֹרֵי עָפָר וְכֵפִים

Since they are expelled from inhabited areas, in channels of ravines they reside, in holes in the dirt and rocks.

בֵּין־שִׂיחִים יִנְהָקוּ תַּחַת חָרוּל יְסֻפָּחוּ

Among the bushes they bray like wild asses; under the nettles, or thorns, they are gathered to sit together.

בְּנֵי־נָבָל גַּם־בְּנֵי בְלִי־שֵׁם נִכְּאוּ מִן־הָאָרֶץ

They are children of wicked and despicable scoundrels, also children of the nameless, even lower than the earth.

וְעַתָּה נְגִינָתָם הָיִיתִי וָאֱהִי לָהֶם לְמִלָּה

Job graphically depicts the despicable rabble that mocks him. These are people who lack property, power, place and status in society, and good reputation. In light of this description of those who scorn him, Job’s present position seems even lowlier: Now I have become their song, they sing mocking songs about me; I am a byword to them; I am the subject of their ditties and gossip.

תִּעֲבוּנִי רָחֲקוּ מֶנִּי וּמִפָּנַי לֹא־חָשְׂכוּ רֹק

They detest me, they distance themselves from me, and they do not even spare spittle from my face.

כִּי יִתְרִי פִתַּח וַיְעַנֵּנִי וְרֶסֶן מִפָּנַי שִׁלֵּחוּ

For He, God, or he, the man who mocks me, has opened my cord, with which I girded my loins as an expression of my strength, my connections and the defenses that protect me, and afflicted me, and they have cast aside restraint with regard to me. Their behavior was restrained as long as I retained my power and status. Now, these people allow themselves to harm me.

עַל־יָמִין פִּרְחַח יָקוּמוּ רַגְלַי שִׁלֵּחוּ וַיָּסֹלּוּ עָלַי אָרְחוֹת אֵידָם

On my right, instead of my respectable group of dignitaries, young ruffians, mischievous youths, will rise up; they cast aside, push against, my feet and press me onto their ways of calamity. They now seek to transfer to me the banishment and troubles they have experienced.

נָתְסוּ נְתִיבָתִי לְהַוָּתִי יֹעִילוּ לֹא עֹזֵר לָמוֹ

They have smashed my path; through their actions, they have exacerbated my situation, which is of no help to themselves. They derive no personal benefit from their actions, which they perform purely for the sake of evil itself.

כְּפֶרֶץ רָחָב יֶאֱתָיוּ תַּחַת שֹׁאָה הִתְגַּלְגָּלוּ

They come like a wide torrent, like a broad wave they come to wash over me; they roll under foreboding clouds.

הָהְפַּךְ עָלַי בַּלָּהוֹת תִּרְדֹּף כָּרוּחַ נְדִבָתִי וּכְ עָב עָבְרָה יְשֻׁעָתִי

Terrors and nightmares overwhelm me; it, terror, pursues my virtue, my generosity and fine attributes, like the wind; and like a cloud, my salvation passes on.

וְעַתָּה עָלַי תִּשְׁתַּפֵּךְ נַפְשִׁי יֹאחֲזוּנִי יְמֵי־עֹנִי

Now, my soul pours out of me in tears; days of affliction have seized me.

לַיְלָה עֲצָמַי נִקַּר מֵעָלָי וְעֹרְקַי לֹא יִשְׁכָּבוּן

At night my bones are pierced and painful, as though they are overcoming me, and my sinews do not rest from suffering. The pain, both external and internal, has penetrated deep within me.

בְּרָב־כֹּחַ יִתְחַפֵּשׂ לְבוּשִׁי כְּפִי כֻתָּנְתִּי יַאַזְרֵנִי

With great force it, the pain, imitates my garment. The pain forcefully adheres to me, as though it were my clothing; like the collar of my tunic it, the pain, is wrapped around me. It surrounds me in a kind of chokehold.

הֹרַנִי לַחֹמֶר וָאֶתְמַשֵּׁל כֶּעָפָר וָאֵפֶר

It, the pain, directed me to be like clay, or it has thrown me to the dust, and I have become like dust and ashes.

אֲשַׁוַּע אֵלֶיךָ וְלֹא תַעֲנֵנִי עָמַדְתִּי וַתִּתְבֹּנֶן בִּי

Job now turns to God: I cry to You, but You do not answer me; I stand before You in prayer, and You look at me; You see me, and yet You do not respond.

תֵּהָפֵךְ לְאַכְזָר לִי בְּעֹצֶם יָדְךָ תִשְׂטְמֵנִי

You have become cruel with regard to me; with the might of Your hand You despise me.

תִּשָּׂאֵנִי אֶל־רוּחַ תַּרְכִּיבֵנִי וּתְמֹגְגֵנִי תֻּשִׁיָּה

You lift me to the wind, it will transport me and dissolve my resourcefulness, my insight and understanding.

כִּי־יָדַעְתִּי מָוֶת תְּשִׁיבֵנִי ובֵית מוֹעֵד לְכָל חָי

For I know that you will reply to me with death and with the appointed house for all living. All living beings, including myself, will eventually arrive at death’s door.

אַךְ לֹא־בְעִי יִשְׁלַח יָד אִם־בְּפִידוֹ לָהֶן שׁוּעַ

Yet no one will extend a hand to rescue me from a heap, the grave; if ruin is upon him, does he have wealth? At the time of a calamity, one’s wealth will be of no assistance.

אִם־לֹא בָכִיתִי לִקְשֵׁה־יוֹם עָגְמָה נַפְשִׁי לָאֶבְיוֹן

Job concludes this lengthy speech with a series of oaths and declarations of his righteousness in various areas of life, despite which he has suffered from numerous disasters: Truly, I make an oath that in my period of greatness I wept for the downtrodden; my soul grieved for the indigent when I observed his sorry state.

כִּי טוֹב קִוִּיתִי וַיָּבֹא רָע וַאֲיַחֲלָה לְאוֹר וַיָּבֹא אֹפֶל

For I hoped for good, by treating other people with compassion, and yet evil came; I longed for light, and darkness came. Now that I am in trouble, no one has taken pity on me.

מֵעַי רֻתְּחוּ וְלֹא־דָמּוּ קִדְּמֻנִי יְמֵי־עֹנִי

My innards burn in pain and do not quiet, they are not calmed; more days of affliction await me.

קֹדֵר הִלַּכְתִּי בְּלֹא חַמָּה קַמְתִּי בקָּהָל אֲשַׁוֵּעַ

I walk in gloom, without feeling the sun. Not only do I cry when I am alone, but I rise in the assembly, and yet I can do nothing but cry out for help.

אָח הָיִיתִי לְתַנִּים ורֵעַ לִבְנוֹת יַעֲנָה

In my cries, I have become like a brother to jackals and a companion to eagle owls, which make similar cries.

עוֹרִי שָׁחַר מֵעָלָי וְעַצְמִי חָרָה מִנִּי־חֹרֶב

My skin is blackened upon me, and my bones are dried, parched, from the heat of my illness.

וַיְהִי לְאֵבֶל כִּנֹּרִי וְעֻגָבִי לְקוֹל בֹּכִים

My harp is for mourning, and my pipe is for the voice of weepers. My musical instruments, which were formerly used for rejoicing and the pleasures of life, now produce sounds of eulogy and lamentation.