I am stooped and deeply bowed; every day I go about mourning.
At once the angel of the Lord struck him down because he did not ascribe the honor to God, and he was eaten by worms and breathed his last.
Do not hide your face from me in the day of my distress. Turn your ear to me; when I call, answer me quickly.
All those who hate me whisper together against me; they imagine the worst about me:
My flesh is clothed with worms and scabs; my skin cracks and festers;
With great difficulty I change my clothes, the collar of my tunic fits around my waist.
I answered the king: “May the king live forever! How could I not look sad when the city where my ancestors are buried lies in ruins, and its gates consumed by fire?”