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.
9
"And now I am their taunting song; Yes, I am their byword.
10
They abhor me, they keep far from me; They do not hesitate to spit in my face.
11
Because He has loosed my bowstring and afflicted me, They have cast off restraint before me.
12
At my right hand the rabble arises; They push away my feet, And they raise against me their ways of destruction.
13
They break up my path, They promote my calamity; They have no helper.
14
They come as broad breakers; Under the ruinous storm they roll along.
15
Terrors are turned upon me; They pursue my honor as the wind, And my prosperity has passed like a cloud.
16
"And now my soul is poured out because of my plight; The days of affliction take hold of me.
17
My bones are pierced in me at night, And my gnawing pains take no rest.