¹⁷ God, your thoughts are precious to me.
    ·They are so many [^LHow vast are their sum; Job 42:3]!
¹⁸ If I could count them,
    they would be more than all the grains of sand.
When I ·wake up [or come to the end],
    I am still with you.

¹⁹ God, I wish you would kill the wicked!
    Get away from me, you ·murderers [^Lpeople of blood]!