Glorious art thou (and) excellent, From the mountains of prey.
(Such) knowledge is too wonderful for me; It is high, I cannot attain unto it.
Look on (my) right hand, and see; For there is no man that knoweth me: Refuge hath failed me; No man careth for my soul.
Let a cry be heard from their houses, when thou shalt bring a troop suddenly upon them; for they have digged a pit to take me, and hid snares for my feet.