Whyמַדּוּעַare timesעִתִּיםnotלֹאstored upנִצְפְּנוּby Shaddai,מִשַּׁדַּיand why do those who know himוְיֹדְעָיוnotלֹאseeחָזוּhis days?יָמָיו
They moveיַשִּׂיגוּboundary markers;גְּבֻלוֹתthey seizeגָּזְלוּa flockעֵדֶרand pasture it.וַיִּרְעוּ
The donkeyחֲמוֹרof the orphansיְתוֹמִיםthey drive away;יִנְהָגוּthey take in pledgeיַחְבְּלוּthe oxשׁוֹרof the widow.אַלְמָנָה
They pushיַטּוּthe needyאֶבְיוֹנִיםoff the road;מִדָּרֶךְtogetherיַחַדthe humbleעֲנִיֵּיof the landאָרֶץhide themselves.חֻבְּאוּ
Look,הֵןlike wild donkeysפְּרָאִיםin the wildernessבַּמִּדְבָּרthey go outיָצְאוּto their work,בְּפָעֳלָםseekingמְשַׁחֲרֵיprey;לַטָּרֶףthe steppeעֲרָבָהyields themלוֹbreadלֶחֶםfor the boys.לַנְּעָרִים
In the fieldבַּשָּׂדֶהthey reapיִקְצוֹרוּhis fodder,בְּלִילוֹand the vineyardוְכֶרֶםof the wickedרָשָׁעthey glean.יְלַקֵּשׁוּ
Nakedעָרוֹםthey spend the nightיָלִינוּwithoutמִבְּלִיclothing,לְבוּשׁand they have noוְאֵיןcoveringכְּסוּתin the cold.בַּקָּרָה
With the downpourמִזֶּרֶםof the mountainsהָרִיםthey are drenched,יִרְטָבוּand for lackוּמִבְּלִיof refugeמַחְסֶהthey hugחִבְּקוּthe rock.צוּר
They seizeיִגְזְלוּthe orphanיָתוֹםfrom the breast,מִשֹּׁדand againstוְעַלthe poorעָנִיthey take pledges.יַחְבֹּלוּ
Nakedעָרוֹםthey go aboutהִלְּכוּwithoutבְּלִיclothing,לְבוּשׁand hungry,וּרְעֵבִיםthey carryנָשְׂאוּthe sheaf.עֹמֶר
Betweenבֵּיןtheir wallsשׁוּרֹתָםthey press out oil;יַצְהִירוּthey treadדָּרְכוּthe winepresses,יְקָבִיםand are thirsty.וַיִּצְמָאוּ
From the cityמֵעִירmenמְתִיםgroan,יִנְאָקוּand the soulוְנֶפֶשׁof the woundedחֲלָלִיםcalls for help;תְּשַׁוֵּעַyet Eloahוֶאֱלוֹהַּdoes notלֹאcount itיָשִׂיםas impropriety.תִּפְלָה
Theyהֵמָּהareהָיוּamong those who rebelבְּמֹרְדֵיagainst the light;אוֹרthey do notלֹאrecognizeהִכִּירוּits ways,דְרָכָיוand do notוְלֹאremainיָשְׁבוּin its paths.בִּנְתִיבֹתָיו
With the lightלָאוֹרthe murdererרוֹצֵחַrises;יָקוּםhe killsיִקְטָלthe poorעָנִיand the needy,וְאֶבְיוֹןand in the nightוּבַלַּיְלָהhe isיְהִיlike the thief.כַגַּנָּב
And the eyeוְעֵיןof the adultererנֹאֵףwatches forשָׁמְרָהthe twilight,נֶשֶׁףsaying,לֵאמֹר‘Noלֹאeyeעָיִןwill catch sight of me,’תְשׁוּרֵנִיand he putsוְ יָשִׂיםa coveringסֵתֶרon his face.פָּנִים
They dig throughחָתַרhousesבָּתִּיםin the dark;בַּחֹשֶׁךְby dayיוֹמָםthey shut themselves in;חִתְּמוּ לָמוֹthey do notלֹאknowיָדְעוּthe light.אוֹר
Forכִּיto all of themיַחְדָּו לָמוֹmorningבֹּקֶרis the shadow of death,צַלְמָוֶתforכִּיthey recognizeיַכִּירthe terrorsבַּלְהוֹתof the shadow of death.צַלְמָוֶת
Swiftקַלis heהוּאonעַלthe faceפְּנֵיof the waters;מַיִםcursedתְּקֻלַּלis their plotחֶלְקָתָםin the land;בָּאָרֶץhe does notלֹאturnיִפְנֶהtoward the roadדֶּרֶךְof the vineyards.כְּרָמִים
Droughtצִיָּהandגַםheatחֹםseizeיִגְזְלוּthe watersמֵימֵיof snow;שֶׁלֶגSheol,שְׁאוֹלthose who have sinned.חָטָאוּ
The wombרֶחֶםforgets him;יִשְׁכָּחֵהוּthe wormsרִמָּהsavor him;מְתָקוֹhe is noלֹאlongerעוֹדremembered,יִזָּכֵרand injusticeעַוְלָהis brokenוַתִּשָּׁבֵרlike a tree.כָּעֵץ
He preys onרֹעֶהthe barren womanעֲקָרָהwho does notלֹאgive birth,תֵלֵדand does noלֹאgoodיְיֵטִיבto the widow.וְאַלְמָנָה
And he drags offוּמָשַׁךְthe mightyאַבִּירִיםby his strength;בְּכֹחוֹhe rises up,יָקוּםand no oneוְלֹאis sureיַאֲמִיןof life.בַּחַיִּין
He givesיִתֶּןhimלוֹsecurity,לָבֶטַחand he leans on it;וְיִשָּׁעֵןand his eyesוְעֵינֵיהוּare onעַלtheir ways.דַּרְכֵיהֶם
They are exaltedרוֹמּוּa little while,מְּעַטand are gone;וְאֵינֶנּוּand they are brought low,וְהֻמְּכוּlike allכַּכֹּלthey are gathered up,יִקָּפְצוּןand like the headsוּכְרֹאשׁof grainשִׁבֹּלֶתthey wither.יִמָּלוּ
And ifוְאִםit is not so,לֹאthen,אֵפוֹwhoמִיwill prove me a liar,יַכְזִיבֵנִיand reduceוְיָשֵׂםmy wordמִלָּתִיto nothing?”לְאַל