Post by 17qCgd…ASXj

As through a wide breach they come: In the midst of the ruin they roll themselves `upon me'.

Yea, the strength of their hands, whereto should it profit me? Men in whom ripe age is perished.

For I know that thou wilt bring me to death, And to the house appointed for all living.

They pluck salt-wort by the bushes; And the roots of the broom are their food.

And now I am become their song, Yea, I am a byword unto them.

They are gaunt with want and famine; They gnaw the dry ground, in the gloom of wasteness and desolation.

Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.

They are driven forth from the midst `of men'; They cry after them as after a thief;

My skin is black, `and falleth' from me, And my bones are burned with heat.

I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.

And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me.

So that they dwell in frightful valleys, In holes of the earth and of the rocks.

When I looked for good, then evil came; And when I waited for light, there came darkness.

My heart is troubled, and resteth not; Days of affliction are come upon me.

By `God's' great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.