I am feeble and utterly broken: I have groaned by reason of the turmoil of my heart.
For my sighing comes before I eat, and my groanings are poured out like the waters.
My heart is in turmoil, and rests not: the days of affliction confront me.
I went mourning but not in the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation.
When I kept silence, my bones grew old through my groaning all the day long.
We all growl like bears, and mourn greatly like doves: we look for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.