The enemy hath persecuted my soul. He hath smitten my life down to the
ground. He hath made me dwell in darkness, as those that have been long
dead.

Therefore is my spirit overwhelmed within me. My heart within me is
desolate.

Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble.

For my days are consumed like smoke: and my bones are burnt as the
hearth.

My heart is smitten and withered like grass: so that I forget to eat my
bread.

By reason of the voice of my groaning, my bones cleave to my skin.

I am like a pelican of the wilderness. I am like an owl of the desart.

I watch; and am as a sparrow alone upon the house-top.

I have eaten ashes like bread; and mingled my drink with weeping:

Because of thine indignation, and thy wrath: for thou hast lifted me up,
and cast me down.

My days are like a shadow that declineth, and I am withered like grass.

Grant not, O Lord, the desires of the wicked: further not his devices,