We are brought down to the dust; our bodies cling to the ground.
Why do you hide your face and consider me your enemy?
Why, Lord, do you stand far off? Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?
I am laid low in the dust; preserve my life according to your word.
From my youth I have suffered and been close to death; I have borne your terrors and am in despair.
I will put it into the hands of your tormentors, who said to you, ‘Fall prostrate that we may walk on you.’ And you made your back like the ground, like a street to be walked on.”
Those who once ate delicacies are destitute in the streets. Those brought up in royal purple now lie on ash heaps.