Whom can I accuse, of whom revenge demand,
When I have borne deep suffering at my own hand?
Other hearts have held hatred for me,
But my own heart hates me more than anyone knows.
My body bears the wounds of relentless foes,
But none can match my self-inflicted wounds.
I have been seduced for my destruction
But none have lured me than my own eyes.
I have been burned by countless fires,
But none compare to the heat of my desires.
In traps I've been ensnared by old and young,
But none have trapped me better than my tongue.
Bandits have pursued me, fast and fleet,
But none pursue me faster than my feet.
Pain overwhelms me, but no pain more than my rebellion.
Anguish increases, but never faster than transgression.
Whom can I blame, how can I function,
When I am the source of my own destruction?
I seek shelter for my soul, which you alone did fashion,
For You, our God and King, are enthroned upon compassion.
(thanks for putting this online rabbi)