Those hating thee do put on shame, And the tent of the wicked is not!

A torch -- despised in the thoughts of the secure Is prepared for those sliding with the feet.

At peace are the tents of spoilers, And those provoking God have confidence, He into whose hand God hath brought.

Abominate me do all the men of my counsel, And those I have loved, Have been turned against me.

Have ye not asked those passing by the way? And their signs do ye not know?

Those saying to God, 'Turn aside from us,' And what doth the Mighty One to them?

Wherefore from the Mighty One Times have not been hidden, And those knowing Him have not seen His days.

Drought -- also heat -- consume snow-waters, Sheol those who have sinned.

A stream hath broken out from a sojourner, Those forgotten of the foot, They were low, from man they wandered.

With want and with famine gloomy, Those fleeing to a dry place, Formerly a desolation and waste,

Those cropping mallows near a shrub, And broom-roots is their food.

And draw near to the pit doth his soul, And his life to those causing death.