20 If his loins have not blessed me, And from the fleece of my sheep He doth not warm himself,
21 If I have waved at the fatherless my hand, When I see in 'him' the gate of my court,
22 My shoulder from its blade let fall, And mine arm from the bone be broken.
23 For a dread unto me 'is' calamity 'from' God, And because of His excellency I am not able.
24 If I have made gold my confidence, And to the pure gold have said, 'My trust,'
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