8 Foolish men, without even a name.They were forced to leave the land.
9 Now I am mocked by their songs; I have become an object of scorn to them.
10 They despise me and keep their distance from me; they do not hesitate to spit in my face.
11 Because God has loosened my bowstring and oppressed me,they have cast off restraint in my presence.
12 The rabble rise up at my right;they trap my feetand construct their siege ramp against me.
13 They tear up my path;they contribute to my destruction, without anyone to help them.
14 They advance as through a gaping breach;they keep rolling in through the ruins.