In vain my hands reach upward high

In vain my hands reach upward high
to break imaginary manna from the sky
The days of affliction take hold of me.
My bones are pierced in me at night,
And my gnawing pains take no rest.

I cry out to you, but you do not answer me;
I stand up, and you regard me.
But you have become cruel to me;
With the strength of your hand you oppose me.
You lift me up to the wind and cause me to ride on it;
You spoil my success.
For I know that you will bring me to death,
And to the house appointed for all the living.

Have I not wept for those that are in trouble?
Has not my soul grieved for the poor?
But when I looked for good, evil came to me;
And when I waited for light, then came darkness.
My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest;
Days of affliction confront me.
I go about mourning, but not in the sun;
I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.
I am a brother of jackals,
And a companion of ostriches.
My skin grows black and falls from me;
My bones burn with fever.
My harp is turned to mourning,
And my flute to the voice of those who weep.

In vain my hands reach upward high
to break imaginary manna from the sky
The days of affliction take hold of me.
My bones are pierced in me at night,
And my gnawing pains take no rest.

door Anoniem

tekstbron: Weekbladen #48
opgenomen in WEEKBLADEN #48 - morsdood
gebruikt in uitzending RK 2021-04-24

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