My spirit hath been destroyed, My days extinguished -- graves `are' for me.

If not -- mockeries `are' with me. And in their provocations mine eye lodgeth.

Place, I pray Thee, my pledge with Thee; Who is he that striketh hand with me?

For their heart Thou hast hidden From understanding, Therefore Thou dost not exalt them.

For a portion he sheweth friendship, And the eyes of his sons are consumed.

And he set me up for a proverb of the peoples, And a wonder before them I am.

And dim from sorrow is mine eye, And my members as a shadow all of them.

Astonished are the upright at this, And the innocent against the profane Stirreth himself up.

And the righteous layeth hold `on' his way, And the clean of hands addeth strength, And -- dumb are they all.

Return, and come in, I pray you, And I find not among you a wise man.

My days have passed by, My devices have been broken off, The possessions of my heart!

Night for day they appoint, Light `is' near because of darkness.

If I wait -- Sheol `is' my house, In darkness I have spread out my couch.

To corruption I have called: -- `Thou `art' my father.' `My mother' and `my sister' -- to the worm.

And where `is' now my hope? Yea, my hope, who doth behold it?

`To' the parts of Sheol ye go down, If together on the dust we may rest.