27 My heart is in turmoil and cannot rest;Days of affliction confront me.
28 I go about mourning, but not in the sun;I stand up in the assembly and cry out for help.
29 I am a brother of jackals,And a companion of ostriches.
30 My skin grows black and falls from me;My bones burn with fever.
31 My harp is turned to mourning,And my flute to the voice of those who weep.