And I have appointed on the world evil, And on the wicked their iniquity, And have caused to cease the excellency of the proud, And the excellency of the terrible I make low.
Rejoice not thou, Philistia, all of thee, That broken hath been the rod of thy smiter, For from the root of a serpent cometh out a viper, And its fruit `is' a flying saraph.
Thou hast multiplied the nation, Thou hast made great its joy, They have joyed before Thee as the joy in harvest, As `men' rejoice in their apportioning spoil.
They have heard that I have sighed, There is no comforter for me, All my enemies have heard of my calamity, They have rejoiced that Thou hast done `it', Thou hast brought in the day Thou hast called, And they are like to me.