My spirit is broken; My days are extinct; The graveyard is ready for me.

Surely there are mockers with me, And my eye lingers on their provocation.

Lay down now a pledge for me with Yourself; Who is he who will strike hands with me?

For You have hidden their heart from insight; Therefore You will not exalt them.

He who denounces his friends for a share of the profit taken, Even the eyes of his children will fail.

But He has made me a byword of the people, And I have become one on whom they may spit.

And my eye has grown dim because of the sorrow, And my members are all like a shadow.

The upright are appalled at this, And the innocent stir themselves up against the profane man.

Yet the righteous man will hold fast to his way, And he whose hands are clean will wax yet stronger.

But all of you, come back now, And I will not find a wise man among you.

My days have passed; broken are my plans, The cherished thoughts of my heart.

They change night into day; The light is near, they say in the face of darkness.

If I wait for Sheol as my house; If I spread my couch in the darkness;

If I call out to the pit, You are my father; You are my mother and my sister, to the worm;

Where then is my hope? Indeed, my hope, who will see it?

It will go down to the bars of Sheol, When, at the same time, we have rest in the dust.