My spirit1 is broken, my days are cut short,2 the grave awaits me.32
Surely mockers4 surround me;5 my eyes must dwell on their hostility.
"Give me, O God, the pledge you demand.6 Who else will put up security7 for me?84
You have closed their minds to understanding;9 therefore you will not let them triumph.
If a man denounces his friends for reward,10 the eyes of his children will fail.116
"God has made me a byword12 to everyone,13 a man in whose face people spit.147
My eyes have grown dim with grief;15 my whole frame is but a shadow.168
Upright men are appalled at this; the innocent are aroused17 against the ungodly.
Nevertheless, the righteous18 will hold to their ways, and those with clean hands19 will grow stronger.20