3. They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation.
4. They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; And the roots of the broom are their food.
5. They are driven forth from the midst of men; They cry after them as after a thief;
6. So that they dwell in frightful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks.
7. Among the bushes they bray; Under the nettles they are gathered together.
8. They are children of fools, yea, children of base men; They were scourged out of the land.
9. And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them.
10. They abhor me, they stand aloof from me, And spare not to spit in my face.
11. For he hath loosed his cord, and afflicted me; And they have cast off the bridle before me.