Now, why dost thou shout aloud? A king -- is there none in thee? Hath thy counsellor perished, That taken hold of thee hath pain as a travailing woman?

And I have cut off thy graven images, And thy standing-pillars out of thy midst, And thou dost not bow thyself any more To the work of thy hands.

Thou -- thou eatest, and thou art not satisfied, And thy pit is in thy midst, And thou removest, and dost not deliver, And that which thou deliverest, to a sword I give.

Thou -- thou sowest, and thou dost not reap, Thou -- thou treadest the olive, And thou pourest not out oil, And new wine -- and thou drinkest not wine.

Thou dost not rejoice over me, O mine enemy, When I have fallen, I have risen, When I sit in darkness Jehovah is a light to me.