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He shall not lie down

Until he eat of the prey

And drink the blood

Drink the blood of the slain

For wrath killeth

The foolish man

And envy slayeth

The silly ones

The noble man is laughed to scorn

Annihilated so completely

Reduced to ash and dung

His children are far from safety

They are crushed in the gate

There is none to deliver them

I have seen the foolish taking root

I have cursed his habitation

Oh that I might have my request

That God would grant me this I long for

That it would please thee to destroy me

And he would let loose thine hand

My soul is weary of my life

I will leave my complaint upon myself

I will speak in the bitterness of my soul

Thou hast clothed me in shame

I beseech thee, thou hast made me as the clay

Wilt thou bring me into dust again

How much more

Abominable

And filthy is man

Which drinketh

Iniquity like water