Thy sons have been wrapt up, they have lain down, At the head of all out places, as a wild ox `in' a net, They are full of the fury of Jehovah, The rebuke of Thy God.
And removed backward is judgment, And righteousness afar off standeth, For truth hath been feeble in the street, And straightforwardness is not able to enter,
A way of peace they have not known, And there is no judgment in their paths, Their paths they have made perverse for themselves, No treader in it hath known peace.
Therefore hath judgment been far from us, And righteousness reacheth us not, We wait for light, and lo, darkness, For brightness -- in thick darkness we go,
And escaped away have their fugitives, And they have been on the mountains As doves of the valleys, All of them make a noising -- each for his iniquity.