20Insult has broken my heart, past cure are my shame and confusion. For pity I looked — there was none! And for comforters, but I found none.
21Poison they gave me for food, and to slake my thirst they gave vinegar.
22May their table, outspread, be a trap to them, and their peace-offerings be a snare.
23May their eyes be darkened and blind, make them shake without ceasing.