²⁷ The churning inside me never stops;^(A)
    days of suffering confront me.^(B)
28 I go about blackened,^(C) but not by the sun;
    I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.^(D)
29 I have become a brother of jackals,^(E)
    a companion of owls.^(F)
30 My skin grows black^(G) and peels;^(H)
    my body burns with fever.^(I)
31 My lyre is tuned to mourning,^(J)
    and my pipe^(K) to the sound of wailing.