5 Because of the voice of my sorrow, my flesh is wasted to the bone.
6 I am like a bird living by itself in the waste places; like the night-bird in a waste of sand.
7 I keep watch like a bird by itself on the house-top.
8 My haters say evil of me all day; those who are violent against me make use of my name as a curse.
9 I have had dust for bread and my drink has been mixed with weeping:
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