I am one who has seen affliction under the rod of God's wrath;
he has driven and brought me into darkness without any light;
against me alone he turns his hand, again and again, all day long.
He has made my flesh and my skin waste away, and broken my bones;
he has besieged and enveloped me with bitterness and tribulation;
he has made me sit in darkness like the dead of long ago.
He has walled me about so that I cannot escape; he has put heavy chains on me;
though I call and cry for help, he shuts out my prayer;
he has blocked my ways with hewn stones, he has made my paths crooked.
He is a bear lying in wait for me, a lion in hiding;
he led me off my way and tore me to pieces; he has made me desolate;
he bent his bow and set me as a mark for his arrow.
He shot into my vitals the arrows of his quiver;
I have become the laughingstock of all my people, the object of their taunt-songs all day long.
He has filled me with bitterness, he has sated me with wormwood.
He has made my teeth grind on gravel, and made me cower in ashes;
my soul is bereft of peace; I have forgotten what happiness is;
so I say, "Gone is my glory, and all that I had hoped for from the Lord."
The thought of my affliction and my homelessness is wormwood and gall!
My soul continually thinks of it and is bowed down within me.