7 Among shrubs they do groan, Under nettles they are gathered together.
8 Sons of folly -- even sons without name, They have been smitten from the land.
9 And now, their song I have been, And I am to them for a byword.
10 They have abominated me, They have kept far from me, And from before me have not spared to spit.
11 Because His cord He loosed and afflicteth me, And the bridle from before me, They have cast away.
12 On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.
13 They have broken down my path, By my calamity they profit, `He hath no helper.`
