I eat ashes for food. My tears run down into my drink
I cannot eat for sighing; my groans pour out like water.
Why am I discouraged? Why is my heart so sad? I will put my hope in God! I will praise him again— my Savior and my God!
Day and night I have only tears for food, while my enemies continually taunt me, saying, “Where is this God of yours?”
But instead, they give me poison for food; they offer me sour wine for my thirst.
You have fed us with sorrow and made us drink tears by the bucketful.
The poor, deluded fool feeds on ashes. He trusts something that can’t help him at all. Yet he cannot bring himself to ask, “Is this idol that I’m holding in my hand a lie?”
Don’t tell our enemies in Gath; don’t weep at all. You people in Beth-leaphrah, roll in the dust to show your despair.
Like snakes crawling from their holes, they will come out to meet the Lord our God. They will fear him greatly, trembling in terror at his presence.
