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Psalm 38:6 - New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition 2021

6 I am utterly bowed down and prostrate; all day long I go around mourning.

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More versions

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

6 I am troubled; I am bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

6 I am bent and bowed down greatly; I go about mourning all the day long.

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American Standard Version (1901)

6 I am pained and bowed down greatly; I go mourning all the day long.

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Common English Bible

6 I am hunched over, completely down; I wander around all day long, sad.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

6 Behold, you have made my days measurable, and, before you, my substance is as nothing. Yet truly, all things are vanity: every living man.

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Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version

6 Behold thou hast made my days measurable: and my substance is as nothing before thee. And indeed all things are vanity: every man living.

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Psalm 38:6
13 Cross References  

I go about in sunless gloom; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.


My flesh is clothed with worms and dirt; my skin hardens, then breaks out again.


Some were sick through their sinful ways and because of their iniquities endured affliction;


The Lord upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down.


For my life is spent with sorrow and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away.


as though I grieved for a friend or a brother; I went about as one who laments for a mother, bowed down and in mourning.


Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my help


I say to God, my rock, “Why have you forgotten me? Why must I walk about mournfully because the enemy oppresses me?”


For you are the God in whom I take refuge; why have you cast me off? Why must I walk about mournfully because of the oppression of the enemy?


They set a net for my steps; my soul was bowed down. They dug a pit in my path, but they have fallen into it themselves. Selah


I am weary with my moaning; every night I flood my bed with tears; I drench my couch with my weeping.


my eye grows dim through sorrow. Every day I call on you, O Lord; I spread out my hands to you.


Like a swallow or a crane I clamor; I moan like a dove. My eyes are weary with looking upward. O Lord, I am oppressed; be my security!


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