Bible in Basic English
Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
— Job 30:24-1964, Bible in Basic English
“Howbeit he will not stretch out his hand to the grave, though they cry in his destruction. Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor? When I looked for good, then evil came unto me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented me. I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation. I am a brother to dragons, and a companion to owls. My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat. My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep. ”
You have become cruel to me; the strength of your hand is hard on me.
Lifting me up, you make me go on the wings of the wind; I am broken up by the storm.
For I am certain that you will send me back to death, and to the meeting-place ordered for all living.
Has not my hand been stretched out in help to the poor? have I not been a saviour to him in his trouble?
Have I not been weeping for the crushed? and was not my soul sad for him who was in need?
For I was looking for good, and evil came; I was waiting for light, and it became dark.
My feelings are strongly moved, and give me no rest; days of trouble have overtaken me.
I go about in dark clothing, uncomforted; I get up in the public place, crying out for help.
I have become a brother to the jackals, and go about in the company of ostriches.
My skin is black and dropping off me; and my bones are burning with the heat of my disease.
And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.