8
Sons of fools, and sons of nameless sires, they are driven out of the land.
9
And now I am their song, yea, I am their byword.
10
They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, yea, they spare not to spit in my face.
11
For he hath loosed my cord and afflicted me; so they cast off the bridle before me.
12
At [my] right hand rise the young brood; they push away my feet, and raise up against me their pernicious ways;
13
They mar my path, they set forward my calamity, without any to help them;
14
They come in as through a wide breach: amid the confusion they roll themselves onward.
15
Terrors are turned against me; they pursue mine honour as the wind; and my welfare is passed away like a cloud.
16
And now my soul is poured out in me; days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
17
The night pierceth through my bones [and detacheth them] from me, and my gnawing pains take no rest:
18
By their great force they have become my raiment; they bind me about as the collar of my coat.