Job 18:12
Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.
Hungry is his sorrow, And calamity is ready at his side.
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13 It consumeth the parts of his skin, Consume his parts doth death's first-born.
14 Drawn from his tent is his confidence, And it causeth him to step to the king of terrors.
6 The light hath been dark in his tent, And his lamp over him is extinguished.
7 Straitened are the steps of his strength, And cast him down doth his own counsel.
8 For he is sent into a net by his own feet, And on a snare he doth walk habitually.
9 Seize on the heel doth a gin, Prevail over him do the designing.
10 Hidden in the earth is his cord, And his trap on the path.
11 Round about terrified him have terrors, And they have scattered him -- at his feet.
23 He is wandering for bread -- `Where `is' it?' He hath known that ready at his hand Is a day of darkness.
24 Terrify him do adversity and distress, They prevail over him As a king ready for a boaster.
19 And he hath been reproved With pain on his bed, And the strife of his bones `is' enduring.
20 And his life hath nauseated bread, And his soul desirable food.
21 His flesh is consumed from being seen, And high are his bones, they were not seen!
22 And draw near to the pit doth his soul, And his life to those causing death.
21 There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay.
22 In the fulness of his sufficiency he is straitened. Every perverse hand doth meet him.
23 It cometh to pass, at the filling of his belly, He sendeth forth against him The fierceness of His anger, Yea, He raineth on him in his eating.
24 He fleeth from an iron weapon, Pass through him doth a bow of brass.
25 One hath drawn, And it cometh out from the body, And a glittering weapon from his gall proceedeth. On him `are' terrors.
26 All darkness is hid for his treasures, Consume him doth a fire not blown, Broken is the remnant in his tent.
20 And cutteth down on the right, and hath been hungry, And he devoureth on the left, And they have not been satisfied, Each the flesh of his own arm they devour.
24 Exhausted by famine, And consumed by heat, and bitter destruction. And the teeth of beasts I send upon them, With poison of fearful things of the dust.
25 Without bereave doth the sword, And at the inner-chambers -- fear, Both youth and virgin, Suckling with man of grey hair.
21 A fearful voice `is' in his ears, In peace doth a destroyer come to him.
15 Therefore suddenly cometh his calamity, Instantly he is broken -- and no healing.
14 His food in his bowels is turned, The bitterness of asps `is' in his heart.
26 and those eating his portion of food destroy him, and his force overfloweth, and fallen have many wounded.
17 so that they lack bread and water, and have been astonished one with another, and been consumed in their iniquity.
16 From beneath his roots are dried up, And from above cut off is his crop.
22 In his neck lodge doth strength, And before him doth grief exult.
28 And he inhabiteth cities cut off, houses not dwelt in, That have been ready to become heaps.
18 They thrust him from light unto darkness, And from the habitable earth cast him out.
30 He turneth not aside from darkness, His tender branch doth a flame dry up, And he turneth aside at the breath of His mouth!
11 My ways He is turning aside, and He pulleth me in pieces, He hath made me a desolation.
20 His own eyes see his destruction, And of the wrath of the Mighty he drinketh.
14 Thou -- thou eatest, and thou art not satisfied, And thy pit `is' in thy midst, And thou removest, and dost not deliver, And that which thou deliverest, to a sword I give.
11 And thy poverty hath come as a traveller, And thy want as an armed man.
28 And he, as a rotten thing, weareth away, As a garment hath a moth consumed him.
15 The sword `is' without, And the pestilence and the famine within, He who is in a field by sword dieth, And he who is in a city, Famine and pestilence devour him.
5 Whose harvest the hungry doth eat, And even from the thorns taketh it, And the designing swallowed their wealth.
15 There consume thee doth a fire, Cut thee off doth a sword, It doth consume thee as a cankerworm! Make thyself heavy as the cankerworm, Make thyself heavy as the locust.
13 Go round against me do his archers. He splitteth my reins, and spareth not, He poureth out to the earth my gall.
14 He breaketh me -- breach upon breach, He runneth upon me as a mighty one.
9 Who is brightening up the spoiled against the strong, And the spoiled against a fortress cometh.
9 And a battering-ram before him he placeth against thy walls, And thy towers he breaketh by his weapons.
16 Gall of asps he sucketh, Slay him doth the tongue of a viper.
10 And wander continually do his sons, Yea, they have begged, And have sought out of their dry places.
14 If his sons multiply -- for them `is' a sword. And his offspring `are' not satisfied `with' bread.
55 against giving to one of them of the flesh of his sons whom he eateth, because he hath nothing left to him, in the siege, and in the straitness with which thine enemy doth straiten thee in all thy gates.
34 And thy poverty hath come `as' a traveller, And thy want as an armed man!