1 My breath is corrupt, my days are cut off, and the grave is ready for me.
2 Now there are only mockers with me, upon whose bitterness my eye continues to gaze.
3 Put up now, give me surety with thee; who is he that will strike hands with me?
4 For with these, thou hast hid their heart from understanding; therefore, thou shalt not exalt them.
5 He that speaks flattery to his neighbour, even the eyes of his sons shall fail.
6 He has made me a byword of the peoples; and before them I have been as a tambourine.
7 My eyes are dim by reason of sorrow, and all my thoughts are as a shadow.