Job begins with the contrast: now men younger than he laugh at him, sons of people he would not have put with the dogs of his flock. They were outcasts, hungry, living in desolate places, eating salt herbs and the roots of broom, driven out from among men and shouted at like thieves. And now Job is their song and their byword; they abhor him, keep far from him and do not hold back from spitting in his face (vv. 1-10).
Job attributes his situation to God, who has loosened his cord and humbled him. Men without restraint rise against him, block his path and come at him like a breach in a wall. Terrors turn on him; his honor is carried off like the wind and his prosperity passes like a cloud. His soul is poured out within him; night pierces his bones and the pain never rests. God has cast him into the mud, and he has become like dust and ashes (vv. 11-19).
Job cries to God, but receives no answer. He feels God has turned cruel, lifting him on the wind and tossing him about in the storm. He knows God will bring him to death. He asks whether anyone lays a hand against the ruined who cry out in their calamity. He too wept for the one whose day was hard and grieved for the poor. He hoped for good and evil came; he waited for light and darkness came. His inward parts boil, his skin turns black, and his harp and pipe sound only mourning (vv. 20-31).