¹⁴ I cried like a swift or thrush,
    I moaned like a mourning dove.^(A)
My eyes grew weak^(B) as I looked to the heavens.
    I am being threatened; Lord, come to my aid!”^(C)

¹⁶ The fugitives^(A) who escape
    will flee to the mountains.
Like doves^(B) of the valleys,
    they will all moan,
    each for their own sins.^(C)