YLT(i)
8 Keep me as the apple, the daughter of the eye; In shadow of Thy wings thou dost hide me.
9 From the face of the wicked who spoiled me. Mine enemies in soul go round against me.
10 Their fat they have closed up, Their mouths have spoken with pride:
11 `Our steps now have compassed him;' Their eyes they set to turn aside in the land.
12 His likeness as a lion desirous to tear, As a young lion dwelling in secret places.
13 Arise, O Jehovah, go before his face, Cause him to bend. Deliver my soul from the wicked, Thy sword,