⁵ My ^(A)flesh is clothed with worms and a crust of dirt;
My skin scabs over and flows out again.

²⁸ While ^[a]I am decaying like a ^(A)rotten thing,
Like a garment that is moth-eaten.

¹⁷ At night it pierces ^(A)my bones ^[a]within me,
And my gnawing pains take no rest.
¹⁸ By a great force my garment is ^(B)distorted;
It seizes me about as the collar of my tunic.

³⁰ My ^(A)skin turns black ^[a]on me,
And my ^(B)bones burn with ^[b]fever.