For my soul is full of troubles, And my life draws near to the grave.
Their soul abhorred all manner of food, And they drew near to the gates of death.
He is despised and rejected by men, A Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him.
They mount up to the heavens, They go down again to the depths; Their soul melts because of trouble.
In the day of my trouble I sought the Lord; My hand was stretched out in the night without ceasing; My soul refused to be comforted.
Yes, his soul draws near the Pit, And his life to the executioners.
Hear a just cause, O Lord, Attend to my cry; Give ear to my prayer which is not from deceitful lips.