14 As a crane -- a swallow -- so I chatter, I mourn as a dove, Drawn up have been mine eyes on high, O Jehovah, oppression [is] on me, be my surety.
14
I cried like a swift or thrush, I moaned like a mourning dove. My eyes grew weak as I looked to the heavens. I am being threatened; Lord, come to my aid!”
Young's Literal Translation is in the public domain.