For my loins are filled with burning, And there is no soundness in my flesh.
And immediately an angel of the Lord struck him because he did not give God the glory, and he was eaten by worms and breathed his last.
For my days have vanished in smoke, And my bones have been scorched like a hearth.
“A vile thing is poured out upon him, That when he lies down, he will not rise up again.”
“My flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt; My skin scabs over and flows out again.
“By a great force my garment is distorted; It seizes me about as the collar of my tunic.
I said to the king, “Let the king live forever. Why should my face not be sad when the city, the place of my fathers’ tombs, lies waste and its gates have been consumed by fire?”