And our oppression? For our soul is to the dust down press'd: Our belly also on the earth fast cleaving, hold doth take.
For our soul is bowed down to the dust: Our belly cleaveth unto the earth.
For our lives are bowed down to the dust; our bodies cleave to the ground.
For our soul is bowed down to the dust: Our body cleaveth unto the earth.
Look: we’re going down to the dust; our stomachs are flat on the ground!
Wherefore is it that thou, O Lord, dost stand from us afar? And wherefore hidest thou thyself, when times so troublous are?
My soul to dust cleaves: quicken me, according to thy word.
Distress'd am I, and from my youth I ready am to die; Thy terrors I have borne, and am distracted fearfully.