“And now those young men mock me in song; I have become a byword among them.
They detest me and keep their distance; they do not hesitate to spit in my face.
Now that God has unstrung my bow and afflicted me, they throw off restraint in my presence.
On my right the tribe attacks; they lay snares for my feet, they build their siege ramps against me.
They break up my road; they succeed in destroying me. ‘No one can help him,’ they say.
They advance as through a gaping breach; amid the ruins they come rolling in.
Terrors overwhelm me; my dignity is driven away as by the wind, my safety vanishes like a cloud.