For he never thought of doing a kindness,
    but hounded to death the poor
    and the needy and the brokenhearted.
He loved to pronounce a curse—
    may it come back on him.
He found no pleasure in blessing—
    may it be far from him.
He wore cursing as his garment;
    it entered into his body like water,
    into his bones like oil.
May it be like a cloak wrapped about him,
    like a belt tied forever around him.
May this be the Lord's payment to my accusers,
    to those who speak evil of me.

But you, Sovereign Lord,
    help me for your name's sake;
    out of the goodness of your love, deliver me.
For I am poor and needy,
    and my heart is wounded within me.
I fade away like an evening shadow;
    I am shaken off like a locust.
My knees give way from fasting;
    my body is thin and gaunt.
I am an object of scorn to my accusers;
    when they see me, they shake their heads.

Help me, Lord my God;
    save me according to your unfailing love.
Let them know that it is your hand,
    that you, Lord, have done it.
While they curse, may you bless;
    may those who attack me be put to shame,
    but may your servant rejoice.
May my accusers be clothed with disgrace
    and wrapped in shame as in a cloak.

With my mouth I will greatly extol the Lord;
    in the great throng of worshipers I will praise him.
For he stands at the right hand of the needy,
    to save their lives from those who would condemn them.