When I think of God, I sigh; when I meditate, I feel discouraged.

Ever since I was young, I have suffered and been near death; I am worn out from the burden of your punishments.

Because of you I am afraid; I am filled with fear because of your judgments.

The thought of my pain, my homelessness, is bitter poison.

I think of it constantly, and my spirit is depressed.

I hear all this, and I tremble; my lips quiver with fear. My body goes limp, and my feet stumble beneath me. I will quietly wait for the time to come when God will punish those who attack us.