My enemies taunt me all day. My deriders use my name to curse.
For my sighing comes instead of my bread, and my groans pour out like water.
As with a crushing in my bones, my adversaries taunt me, by saying to me all day, “Where is your God?”
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When will I come and appear before God?
Scorn has broken my heart, so I am sick. I looked for sympathy, but there was none, for comforters, but found none.
Adonai-Tzva’ot, how long will You be angry with the prayer of Your people?
He is feeding on ashes. A deceived heart has led him astray, so he cannot deliver his soul, nor say, “Isn’t what is in my right hand a fraud?”
Tell it not in Gath—weep not at all. At Beth-le-aphrah roll in the dust.
They will lick dust like a snake. Like crawling things of the land, they will come trembling out of their hiding places. To Adonai Eloheinu they will submit in awe—in awe of You.