²¹ “Have pity on me, my friends,^(A) have pity,
    for the hand of God has struck^(B) me.

¹⁷ I never sat^(A) in the company of revelers,
    never made merry with them;
I sat alone because your hand^(B) was on me
    and you had filled me with indignation.

¹⁸ Why is my pain unending
    and my wound grievous and incurable?^(A)
You are to me like a deceptive brook,
    like a spring that fails.^(B)