Because of the voice of my sighing, my bones cleave to my flesh.
He comes forth like a flower and withers; he also flees like a shadow and does not stand.
My bone clings on my skin and on my flesh; and I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.
I am weary in my groaning; I shall make my bed swim in all the night; I melt my couch with my tears.
Turn away from me, all workers of iniquity, for Jehovah has heard the voice of my weeping.
in the morning it sprouts and shoots up; in the evening it is cut off and dries up.
A joyful heart makes good healing, but a stricken spirit dries the bones.
Their appearance is darker than soot; they are not recognized in the outside places. Their skin has shriveled on their bones; it is dried up, it has become like wood.
And so he did year by year, as often as she went up to the house of Jehovah, so she provoked her. And she wept, and did not eat.