From on high has he sent fire into my bones, and it prevails against them; He has spread a net for my feet, he has turned me back: He has made me desolate and faint all the day.

My flesh and my skin has he made old; he has broken my bones.

Their appearance is blacker than a coal; they are not known in the streets: Their skin clings to their bones; it is withered, it is become like a stick.