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Psalm 88:15 - King James Version with Apocrypha - American Edition

15 I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up: while I suffer thy terrors I am distracted.

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Más versiones

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

15 I am afflicted and ready to die From my youth up: While I suffer thy terrors I am distracted.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

15 I was afflicted and close to death from my youth up; while I suffer Your terrors I am distracted [I faint].

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American Standard Version (1901)

15 I am afflicted and ready to die from my youth up: While I suffer thy terrors I am distracted.

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Common English Bible

15 Since I was young I’ve been afflicted, I’ve been dying. I’ve endured your terrors. I’m lifeless.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

15 Justice and judgment are the preparation of your throne. Mercy and truth will precede your face.

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Psalm 88:15
13 Referencias Cruzadas  

For the arrows of the Almighty are within me, the poison whereof drinketh up my spirit: the terrors of God do set themselves in array against me.


And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly: and his sweat was as it were great drops of blood falling down to the ground.


Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise him; he hath put him to grief: when thou shalt make his soul an offering for sin, he shall see his seed, he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lord shall prosper in his hand.


For all the day long have I been plagued, and chastened every morning.


Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow, saith the Lord of hosts: smite the shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered: and I will turn mine hand upon the little ones.


He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.


My breath is corrupt, my days are extinct, the graves are ready for me.


I cry unto thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me not.


For thou art the God of my strength: why dost thou cast me off? Why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?


For our soul is bowed down to the dust: our belly cleaveth unto the earth.


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