If I say, I will put my grief out of mind, I will let my face be sad no longer and I will be bright;
If I say what is in my mind, my pain becomes no less: and if I keep quiet, how much of it goes from me?
So I will not keep my mouth shut; I will let the words come from it in the pain of my spirit, my soul will make a bitter outcry.
When I say, In my bed I will have comfort, there I will get rest from my disease;
Give thought to me, and let my prayer be answered: I have been made low in sorrow;
Sorrow has come on me! my heart in me is feeble.