1My spirit is broken, my days snuffed out; graves are all that is left me. 2Surely mockery is all around me, and my eye must lodge among their taunts. 3Put down a pledge for me with yourself — who else would strike hands with me? 4You have closed their hearts to insight; that is why you will not let them rise. 5One who informs on friends for a share — the eyes of his children will fail. 6He has made me a byword among the peoples, one they spit in the face of. 7My eye has grown dim from grief, and all my limbs are a shadow. 8The upright are appalled at this, and the innocent is roused against the godless. 9Yet the righteous holds to his way, and the clean of hands grows stronger. 10But come back, all of you, come on — I will not find a wise man among you. 11My days are gone, my plans snapped off, the treasures of my heart. 12They turn night into day: light is close at hand, they say, in the face of darkness.
Sheol is my house
13If I hope for anything, Sheol is my house; I have spread my bed in the dark. 14I have called out to the pit, “You are my father,” and to the worm, “My mother, my sister.” 15Where, then, is my hope? My hope — who will ever see it? 16Will it go down to the bars of Sheol? Shall we sink into the dust together?
