Add parallel Print Page Options

13 But as for me, when they were sick,
    my clothing was sackcloth.
I afflicted my soul with fasting,
    my prayer kept returning to my heart.
14 I went about mourning as though for my own friend or brother.
I bowed down dressed in black as though for my own mother.
15 But at my stumbling they gathered in glee.
Wretches gathered against me whom I did not know,
    tearing at me without ceasing.

Read full chapter