2 Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? men in whom ripe age is perished.
3 They are gaunt with want and famine; they gnaw the dry ground; in the gloom of wasteness and desolation.
4 They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; and the roots of the broom are their meat.
5 They are driven forth from the midst of men; they cry after them as after a thief.
6 In the clefts of the valleys must they dwell, in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
7 Among the bushes they bray; under the nettles they are gathered together.
8 They are children of fools, yea, children of base men; they were scourged out of the land.