Because of the loudness of my groaning My bones cling to my flesh.
“Like a flower he comes out and withers. He also flees like a shadow and does not remain.
“My bone clings to my skin and my flesh, And I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth.
¶I am weary with my sighing; Every night I make my bed swim, I flood my couch with my tears.
¶Leave me, all you who practice injustice, For the Lord has heard the sound of my weeping.
In the morning it flourishes and sprouts anew; Toward evening it wilts and withers away.
A joyful heart is good medicine, But a broken spirit dries up the bones.
Their appearance is darker than soot, They are not recognized in the streets; Their skin is shriveled on their bones, It is dry, it has become like wood.
And it happened year after year, as often as she went up to the house of the Lord, that she would provoke her; so she wept and would not eat.