²⁵ My days are swifter than a runner;
    they flee and don’t experience good.
²⁶ They sweep by like ships made of reeds,
    as an eagle swoops on prey.
²⁷ If I say, “I’ll forget my lament,
    put on a different face so I can smile,”
²⁸     I’m still afraid of all my suffering;
        I know that you won’t declare me innocent.
²⁹ I myself am thought guilty;
    why have I tried so hard in vain?
³⁰ If I wash myself with snow,
        purify my hands with soap,
³¹     then you’ll hurl me into a slimy pit
        so that my clothes detest me.