For my heart is filled with burning pain, and there is no health in my body.
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 comes instead of my bread, and my groans pour out like water.
“My heart seethes and never stops; days of suffering confront me.
I walk about blackened, but not by the sun; I stand in the assembly and cry for help.
When I kept silent, my bones became brittle through my groaning all day long.
All of us growl like bears or moan like doves. We hope for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.