I have been feeble and smitten -- unto excess, I have roared from disquietude of heart.
For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters `are' my roarings.
My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.
Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.
When I have kept silence, become old have my bones, Through my roaring all the day.
We make a noise as bears -- all of us, And as doves we coo sorely; We wait for judgment, and there is none, For salvation -- it hath been far from us.