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Numbers 11:15 - American Standard Version (1901)

15 And if thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray thee, out of hand, if I have found favor in thy sight; and let me not see my wretchedness.

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অধিক সংস্কৰণ

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

15 And if thou deal thus with me, kill me, I pray thee, out of hand, if I have found favour in thy sight; and let me not see my wretchedness.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

15 And if this is the way You deal with me, kill me, I pray You, at once, and be granting me a favor and let me not see my wretchedness [in the failure of all my efforts].

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Common English Bible

15 If you’re going to treat me like this, please kill me. If I’ve found favor in your eyes, then don’t let me endure this wretched situation.”

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Catholic Public Domain Version

15 But if it seems to you otherwise, I beg you to put me to death, and so may I find grace in your eyes, lest I be afflicted with such evils."

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Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version

15 But if it seem unto thee otherwise, I beseech thee to kill me: and let me find grace in thy eyes, that I be not afflicted with so great evils.

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Numbers 11:15
12 পৰস্পৰ সংযোগসমূহ  

Therefore now, O Jehovah, take, I beseech thee, my life from me; for it is better for me to die than to live.


Wherefore came I forth out of the womb to see labor and sorrow, that my days should be consumed with shame?


But he himself went a day’s journey into the wilderness, and came and sat down under a juniper-tree: and he requested for himself that he might die, and said, It is enough; now, O Jehovah, take away my life; for I am not better than my fathers.


Jehovah hath taken away thy judgments, he hath cast out thine enemy: the King of Israel, even Jehovah, is in the midst of thee; thou shalt not fear evil any more.


Yet now, if thou wilt forgive their sin—; and if not, blot me, I pray thee, out of thy book which thou hast written.


And let patience have its perfect work, that ye may be perfect and entire, lacking in nothing.


Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuseth to be healed? wilt thou indeed be unto me as a deceitful brook, as waters that fail?


So that my soul chooseth strangling, And death rather than these my bones.


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