21 Scorn has broken my heart, so I am sick. I looked for sympathy, but there was none, for comforters, but found none.
22 They put gall in my food, and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.
23 Let their table before them be a snare, and what should have been for their well-being, let it be a trap.
24 Let their eyes be darkened so they cannot see and their backs be bent forever.
25 Pour out Your indignation on them. Let Your fierce anger overtake them.
26 Let their encampment be deserted. Let none dwell in their tents.
27 For they persecute the one You have smitten, so they tell of the pain of those You have wounded.