1 “But now they mock at me, men younger than I,
Whose fathers I disdained to put with the dogs of my flock.
2 Indeed, what profit is the strength of their hands to me?
Their vigor has perished.
3 They are gaunt from want and famine,
Fleeing late to the wilderness, desolate and waste,
4 Who pluck mallow by the bushes,
And broom tree roots for their food.
5 They were driven out from among men,
They shouted at them as at a thief.
6 They had to live in the clefts of the valleys,
In caves of the earth and the rocks.
7 Among the bushes they brayed,
Under the nettles they nestled.
8 They were sons of fools,
Yes, sons of vile men;
They were scourged from the land.”