13
His archers surround me. He pierces my heart and does not pity; He pours out my gall on the ground.
14
He breaks me with wound upon wound; He runs at me like a warrior.
15
"I have sewn sackcloth over my skin, And laid my head in the dust.
16
My face is flushed from weeping, And on my eyelids is the shadow of death;
17
Although no violence is in my hands, And my prayer is pure.
18
"O earth, do not cover my blood, And let my cry have no resting place!
19
Surely even now my witness is in heaven, And my evidence is on high.
20
My friends scorn me; My eyes pour out tears to God.
21
Oh, that one might plead for a man with God, As a man pleads for his neighbor!
22
For when a few years are finished, I shall go the way of no return.