⁴     When I lie down at the end of day, I wonder,
        “How soon till morning so I can arise?”
    But the night stretches on,
        and I toss and turn until sunrise.
⁵     My putrid skin is covered with maggots and a dirty crust.
        It hardens and cracks and oozes again.
⁶     My days whisk by swifter than the shuttle in a weaver’s loom—
        back and forth, and back and forth—
        and then they come to their hopeless end.