My body ¹  is clothed ²  with worms ³  and dirty scabs; ⁴  my skin is broken ⁵  and festering.

If I cry ¹  to corruption, ²  ‘You are my father,’ and to the worm, ‘My Mother,’ or ‘My sister,’

Together they lie down in the dust, and worms cover over them both.

how much less a mortal man, who is but a maggot ¹  – a son of man, who is only a worm!”

The womb ¹  forgets him, the worm feasts on him, no longer will he be remembered. Like a tree, wickedness will be broken down.

Your splendor ¹  has been brought down to Sheol, as well as the sound of your stringed instruments. ²  You lie on a bed of maggots, with a blanket of worms over you. ³ 

So they put it aside until the morning, just as Moses had commanded, and it did not stink, nor were there any worms in it.