My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat.
Song of Solomon 1:5
I am dark, but lovely, you daughters of Jerusalem, like Kedar's tents, like Solomon's curtains.
Song of Solomon 1:6
Don't stare at me because I am dark, because the sun has scorched me. My mother's sons were angry with me. They made me keeper of the vineyards. I haven't kept my own vineyard.
I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
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.