12 They pay me evil for good, bereaving my soul,
13 And I--in their sickness my clothing [is] sackcloth, I have humbled with fastings my soul, And my prayer unto my bosom returneth.
14 As [if] a friend, as [if] my brother, I walked habitually, As a mourner for a mother, Mourning I have bowed down.
15 And--in my halting they have rejoiced, And have been gathered together, Gathered against me were the smiters, And I have not known, They have rent, and they have not ceased;
16 With profane ones, mockers in feasts, Gnashing against me their teeth.
17 Lord, how long dost thou behold? Keep back my soul from their desolations, From young lions my only one.
18 I thank Thee in a great assembly, Among a mighty people I praise Thee.