21 There is not a remnant to his food, Therefore his good doth not stay.
22 In the fulness of his sufficiency he is straitened. Every perverse hand doth meet him.
23 It cometh to pass, at the filling of his belly, He sendeth forth against him The fierceness of His anger, Yea, He raineth on him in his eating.
24 He fleeth from an iron weapon, Pass through him doth a bow of brass.
25 One hath drawn, And it cometh out from the body, And a glittering weapon from his gall proceedeth. On him [are] terrors.
26 All darkness is hid for his treasures, Consume him doth a fire not blown, Broken is the remnant in his tent.
27 Reveal do the heavens his iniquity, And earth is raising itself against him.
