⁵ My body is clothed with worms^(A) and scabs,
    my skin is broken and festering.^(B)

²⁸ “So man wastes away like something rotten,
    like a garment^(A) eaten by moths.^(B)

¹⁷ Night pierces my bones;
    my gnawing pains never rest.^(A)

³⁰ My skin grows black^(A) and peels;^(B)
    my body burns with fever.^(C)

⁶ From the sole of your foot to the top of your head^(A)
    there is no soundness^(B)—
only wounds and welts^(C)
    and open sores,
not cleansed or bandaged^(D)
    or soothed with olive oil.^(E)