Because of the sound of my sighing My bones have cleaved to my flesh.
He comes forth like a flower and withers. He flees like a shadow and does not continue.
My bone clings to my skin and to my flesh, and I have escaped by the skin of my teeth.
I have grown weary with my groaning; Every night I flood my bed; I drench my couch with my tears.
Depart from me, all you workers of wickedness; For יהוה has heard the voice of my weeping.
At evening it is cut down and withered.
A rejoicing heart causes good healing, But a stricken spirit dries the bones.
Their appearance has become blacker than soot; They have become unrecognised in the streets; Their skin has shrivelled on their bones, It has become dry, it has become as wood.
And so he did, year by year. Whenever she went up to the House of יהוה, she was provoked, so that she wept and did not eat.