Again and again he bursts upon me; he rushes at me like a warrior.
“I have sewed sackcloth over my skin and buried my brow in the dust.
My face is red with weeping, dark shadows ring my eyes;
yet my hands have been free of violence and my prayer is pure.
“Earth, do not cover my blood; may my cry never be laid to rest!
Even now my witness is in heaven; my advocate is on high.
My intercessor is my friend as my eyes pour out tears to God;
on behalf of a man he pleads with God as one pleads for a friend.
“Only a few years will pass before I take the path of no return.