My heart is stricken and withered like grass, so that I even forget to eat my bread.
My bones cling to my skin and my flesh; I have escaped only by the skin of my teeth.
Their form has become darker than soot! They are not recognized in the street. Their skin has shriveled on their bones, withered like a tree.
A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.
My eyes are weakened with grief— they age because of my enemies.
For there is no memory of You in death, in Sheol who will praise You?
So it was year after year, whenever she went up to the House of Adonai, that she would provoke her; so she wept and would not eat.
Like a flower he comes up and withers; like a shadow he flees and does not stay.
in the morning it flourishes and springs up, by evening it withers and dries up.