I am utterly spent and crushed; I groan because of the tumult 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 comes like my bread, and my groanings are poured out like water.
My inward parts are in turmoil, and are never still; days of affliction come to meet me.
I go about in sunless gloom; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long.
We all growl like bears; like doves we moan mournfully. We wait for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.