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21 Scorn has broken my heart, so I am sick.
I looked for sympathy, but there was none,
for comforters, but found none.
22 They put gall in my food,
and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.[a]
23 Let their table before them be a snare,
and what should have been for their well-being,
let it be a trap.

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