17:1 My spirit is broken. My days are snuffed out. The tomb is waiting for me.
17:2 Surely mockery closes in on me. My eyes must live with my enemies’ bitter contempt.
17:3 Please pay for me the deposit that you require from me. Indeed, who else could guarantee this payment for me?
17:4 You have hidden understanding from their hearts. Therefore, you will not let them win.
17:5 If someone denounces friends for a payoff, his children’s eyes will fail.
17:6 He has made me a laughingstock among the people. They spit in my face.
17:7 My vision is blurry from grief. I am just a shadow of myself.
17:8 The upright are appalled at this, and the innocent are aroused against the godless.
17:9 In spite of it all, the righteous hold tight to their ways, and everyone with clean hands grows stronger.
17:10 All right then—all of you, please come and try again, but I will not find a wise man among you.
17:11 My days have passed. All the things I planned to do are ripped apart, including the deepest desires of my heart.
17:12 They turn night into day. In the face of darkness, they claim light is near.
17:13 If I wait hopefully for the grave to become my house, if I spread out my bed in the darkness,
17:14 if I cry out to the pit, “You are my father,” and to the worm, “My mother” or “My sister,”
17:15 where then is my hope? Who can find any hope for me?
17:16 Will it go down with me to the barred gates of the grave? Will we rest in the dust together?
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