I am faint and sorely bruised [deadly cold and quite worn out]; I groan by reason of the disquiet and moaning of my heart.
For my sighing comes before my food, and my groanings are poured out like water.
My heart is troubled and does not rest; days of affliction come to meet me.
I go about blackened, but not by the sun; I stand up in the congregation and cry for help.
When I kept silence [before I confessed], my bones wasted away through my groaning all the day long.
We all groan and growl like bears and moan plaintively like doves. We look for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.