11Violent witnesses rise up, That which I have not known they ask me.
12They pay me evil for good, bereaving my soul,
13And I — in their sickness my clothing is sackcloth, I have humbled with fastings my soul, And my prayer unto my bosom returneth.
14As if a friend, as if my brother, I walked habitually, As a mourner for a mother, Mourning I have bowed down.