They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, `He hath no helper.'
As a wide breach they come, Under the desolation have rolled themselves.
For they have pursued him Thou hast smitten, And recount of the pain of Thy pierced ones.
My people -- its exactors `are' sucklings, And women have ruled over it. My people -- thy eulogists are causing to err, And the way of thy paths swallowed up.
And `with' great wrath I am wroth against the nations who are at ease, For I was a little wroth, and they assisted -- for evil.