Our skin is black like an oven because of the burning heat of famine.
My skin is black, and falleth from me, And my bones are burned with heat.
For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; Yet do I not forget thy statutes.
My flesh and my skin hath he made old; he hath broken my bones.
Their visage is blacker than a coal; they are not known in the streets: their skin cleaveth to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.