⁹ Remember that you molded me like clay.^(A)
    Will you now turn me to dust again?^(B)

¹⁴ for he knows how we are formed,^(A)
    he remembers that we are dust.^(B)
15 The life of mortals is like grass,^(C)
    they flourish like a flower^(D) of the field;
¹⁶ the wind blows^(E) over it and it is gone,
    and its place^(F) remembers it no more.