20
I cry to you for help and you do not answer me; I stand, and you only look at me.
21
You have 1turned cruel to me; with the might of your hand you 2persecute me.
22
3You lift me up on the wind; you make me ride on it, and you toss me about in the roar of the storm.
23
4For I know that you will bring me to death and to the house appointed for 5all living.
24
"Yet does not one in a 6heap of ruins stretch out his hand, and in his disaster cry for help?
25
Did not I 7weep for him whose day was hard? Was not my soul grieved for the needy?
26
But 8when I hoped for good, evil came, and when I waited for light, 9darkness came.
27
My inward parts are in turmoil and never still; days of affliction 10come to meet me.
28
I 11go about darkened, but not by the sun; I stand up in 12the assembly and cry for help.
29
I am a brother of 13jackals and a companion of 14ostriches.
30
My 15skin turns black and falls from me, and my 16bones burn with heat.
31
My 17lyre is 18turned to mourning, and my 19pipe to the voice of those who weep.