For our soul is bowed down to the dust: our belly sticks to the earth.
Why hide you your face, and hold me for your enemy?
Why stand you afar off, O LORD? why hide you yourself in times of trouble?
My soul sticks to the dust: quicken you me according to your word.
I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up: while I suffer your terrors I am distracted.
But I will put it into the hand of them that afflict you; which have said to your soul, Bow down, that we may go over: and you have laid your body as the ground, and as the street, to them that went over.
They that did feed delicately are desolate in the streets: they that were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.