New Revised Standard Version, Anglicised
15 my mouth[a] is dried up like a potsherd,
and my tongue sticks to my jaws;
you lay me in the dust of death.
16 For dogs are all around me;
a company of evildoers encircles me.
My hands and feet have shrivelled;[b]
17 I can count all my bones.
They stare and gloat over me;