Is not their tent-rope within them, torn away? They die, disrobed of wisdom!

One tearing in pieces his own soul in his anger, - For thy sake, shall the earth be forsaken? or the rock be moved out of its place?

Men tear, from the breast, the fatherless, and, over the poor, they take a pledge;

His anger, hath torn and persecuted me, He hath gnashed upon me with his teeth, Mine adversary, hath sharpened his eyes for me.

And, he that voucheth for me is on high. My friends are, they who scorn me, Unto GOD, hath mine eye shed tears: -

Surely, a fire, had that been, which, unto destruction, would have consumed, and, of all mine increase, had it torn up the root.