2 Of what use is the strength of their hands to me, Men in whom ripe age has perished?
3 They are gaunt from lack and famine. They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of waste and desolation.
4 They pluck salt herbs by the bushes. 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, And in holes of the earth and of the rocks.
7 Among the bushes they bray; And under the nettles they are gathered together.
8 They are children of fools, yes, children of base men. They were flogged out of the land.
