For my waist is filled with burning. There is no soundness in my flesh.
I said to the king, Let the king live forever: why should not my face be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers' tombs, lies waste, and the gates of it are consumed with fire?
By great force is my garment disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat.
My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.
For my days consume away like smoke. My bones are burned as a firebrand.
*An evil disease,* they say, *has afflicted him. Now that he lies he shall rise up no more.*
Immediately an angel of the Lord struck him, because he didn't give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and died.