My spirit consumed, my days are extinct, The grave is ready for me.
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Surely there are mockers with me, And mine eye abideth in their provocation.
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Give now a pledge, be surety for me with Thyself; Who else is there that will strike hands with me?
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For Thou hast hid their heart from understanding; Therefore shalt Thou not exalt them.
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He that denounceth his friends for the sake of flattery, Even the eyes of his children shall fail.
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He hath made me also a byword of the people; And I am become one in whose face they spit.
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Mine eye also is dimmed by reason of vexation, And all my members are as a shadow.
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Upright men are astonished at this, And the innocent stirreth up himself against the godless.
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Yet the righteous holdeth on his way, And he that hath clean hands waxeth stronger and stronger.
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But as for you all, do ye return, and come now; And I shall not find a wise man among you.
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My days are past, my purposes are broken off, Even the thoughts of my heart.
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They change the night into day; The light is short because of darkness.
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If I look for the nether-world as my house; If I have spread my couch in the darkness;
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If I have said to corruption: ‘Thou art my father’, To the worm: ‘Thou art my mother, and my sister’;
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Where then is my hope? And as for my hope, who shall see it?
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They shall go down to the bars of the nether-world, When we are at rest together in the dust.
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