6 Because of the voice of my sorrow, my flesh is wasted to the bone.
7 I am like a bird living by itself in the waste places; like the night-bird in a waste of sand.
8 I keep watch like a bird by itself on the house-top.
9 My haters say evil of me all day; those who are violent against me make use of my name as a curse.
10 I have had dust for bread and my drink has been mixed with weeping:
11 Because of your passion and your wrath, for I have been lifted up and then made low by you.
12 My days are like a shade which is stretched out; I am dry like the grass.
