Yet when I hoped for good, evil came;
when I looked for light, then came darkness.
The churning inside me never stops;
days of suffering confront me.
I go about blackened, but not by the sun;
I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
I have become a brother of jackals,
a companion of owls.
My skin grows black and peels;
my body burns with fever.
My harp is tuned to mourning,
and my flute to the sound of wailing.
when I looked for light, then came darkness.
days of suffering confront me.
I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
a companion of owls.
my body burns with fever.
and my flute to the sound of wailing.
"I have become a brother of jackals, a companion of owls." Well. I don't really know what sort of insight I could add to that, but I really really like it, its poetic simplicity.
ReplyDeleteI agree. I think that line was the best out of all.
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