They reward me evil for good, to the bereaving of my soul.
But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth.
I afflicted my soul with fasting.
My prayer returned into my own bosom.
I behaved myself as though it had been my friend or my brother.
I bowed down mourning, as one who mourns his mother.
But in my adversity, they rejoiced, and gathered themselves together.
The attackers gathered themselves together against me, and I didn’t know it.
They tore at me, and didn’t cease.
Like the profane mockers in feasts, they gnashed their teeth at me.