I am faint and sore bruised: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
I am faint and sorely bruised [deadly cold and quite worn out]; I groan by reason of the disquiet and moaning of my heart.
I am faint and sore bruised: I have groaned by reason of the disquietness of my heart.
I’m worn out, completely crushed; I groan because of my miserable heart.
And now, what is it that awaits me? Is it not the Lord? And my substance is with you.
And now what is my hope? is it not the Lord? and my substance is with thee.
For my sighing cometh before I eat, And my roarings are poured out like water
My bowels boil, and rest not; Days of affliction are come upon me.
I go mourning without the sun: I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
When I kept silence, my bones waxed old Through my roaring all the day long.
We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves: we look for judgement, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.