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My flesh is clothed with rottenness and the filth of dust, my skin is withered and drawn together.

My days have passed more swiftly than the web is cut by the weaver, and are consumed without any hope.

Remember that my life is but wind, and my eyes shall not return to see good things.

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My body is clothed with worms(A) and scabs,
    my skin is broken and festering.(B)

“My days are swifter than a weaver’s shuttle,(C)
    and they come to an end without hope.(D)
Remember, O God, that my life is but a breath;(E)
    my eyes will never see happiness again.(F)

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