Our skin was black like an oven because of the terrible famine.
My skin is black upon me, and my bones are burned with heat.
For I am become like a wineskin in the smoke; yet do I not forget your statutes.
My flesh and my skin has he made old: he has broken my bones.
Their appearance is now blacker than coal; they are not known in the streets: their skin cleaves to their bones; it is withered, it has become like a dry stick.