Job 30:31
My harp is turned to mourning and my flute to the sound of weeping.
My harp is turned to mourning and my flute to the sound of weeping.
My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.
My harp is also turned to mourning, and my flute to the voice of those who weep.
My harp also is turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.
Therefore is my harp{H3658} [turned] to mourning,{H60} And my pipe{H5748} into the voice{H6963} of them that weep.{H1058}
My harp{H3658} also is turned to mourning{H60}, and my organ{H5748} into the voice{H6963} of them that weep{H1058}{(H8802)}.
my harpe is turned to sorow, & my pipe to wepinge.
Therefore mine harpe is turned to mourning, and mine organs into the voyce of them that weepe.
My harpe is turned to mourning, and my organs into the voyce of them that weepe.
My harp also is [turned] to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.
Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.
Therefore is my harp `turned' to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.
Therefore is my harp [turned] to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.
And my music has been turned to sorrow, and the sound of my pipe into the noise of weeping.
Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
My harp is used for mourning and my flute for the sound of weeping.
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
30 My skin grows black and peels off, and my bones burn with fever.
15 The joy of our hearts has ended; our dancing has turned into mourning.
27 My insides are in turmoil and never sit still; days of suffering confront me.
28 I walk in mourning without sunlight; I stand up in the assembly and cry for help.
10 Joy and gladness are taken away from the fertile fields. In the vineyards, no songs are sung, no cheers are heard. No one treads out wine in the presses—the cheerful shouting has stopped.
11 Therefore, my heart moans like a lyre for Moab, and my innermost being for Kir Hareseth.
9 You have not handed me over to the enemy, but you have set my feet in a spacious place.
10 Be gracious to me, O LORD, for I am in distress. My eyes grow weak with sorrow, as do my soul and my body.
4 My spirit is overwhelmed within me; my heart is appalled inside me.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me; days of suffering seize hold of me.
17 At night my bones are pierced within me, and my veins find no rest.
11 Hear me, O LORD, and be merciful to me; O LORD, be my helper.
5 My heart is afflicted and withered like grass, for I forget to eat my food.
15 I have sewn sackcloth over my skin and buried my strength in the dust.
16 My face is red with weeping, and on my eyelids is the shadow of death.
6 He has made me a byword among the peoples, and I have become one at whom they spit.
7 My eyes have grown dim from grief, and all my limbs are like a shadow.
18 My grief is beyond healing; my heart is faint within me.
8 Mourn like a young woman dressed in sackcloth, grieving for the husband of her youth.
31 Therefore, I will wail for Moab; I will cry out for all of Moab. For the men of Kir-heres, I will mourn.
21 When my heart was embittered and my spirit was pierced within me,
10 'I will turn your festivals into mourning and all your songs into lamentation; I will cover everyone's waists with sackcloth and shave every head bald. I will make it like mourning for an only son and its end like a bitter day.'
20 See, LORD, how distressed I am! I am in anguish within, my heart is overturned because I have been very rebellious. Outside, the sword bereaves; inside, there is only death.
21 People have heard my groaning, but there is no one to comfort me. All my enemies have heard of my trouble; they are glad that you have done it. Bring the day you have announced, so they may become like me.
12 "Is it nothing to you, all you who pass by? Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow, which was brought upon me, which the LORD inflicted on the day of his fierce anger.
13 From on high he sent fire; it burns in my bones. He spread a net for my feet and turned me back. He made me desolate, faint all the day long.
7 The new wine dries up, the vine withers, and all the merry-hearted groan.
8 The joy of tambourines ceases, the noise of revelers stops, and the joyful sound of the harp is silenced.
4 From the voice of the enemy, and from the oppression of the wicked—for they bring down trouble on me and in their anger they hate me.
36 Therefore, my heart moans for Moab like the sound of flutes; it moans like flutes for the men of Kir-heres, because their accumulated wealth has perished.
16 "Because of these things I weep; my eyes, my eyes flow with tears. No one is near to comfort me, no one to restore my spirit. My children are desolate because the enemy has prevailed."
6 My wounds are foul and festering because of my foolishness.
3 Surely against me He turns His hand again and again, all day long.
4 He has worn away my flesh and my skin; He has broken my bones.
3 To declare Your lovingkindness in the morning and Your faithfulness by night.
2 Upon the willows in its midst, we hung our harps.
3 When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.
17 For I said, "Lest they rejoice over me; when my foot slips, they magnify themselves against me."
38 If my land cries out against me and its furrows weep together,
21 Since my people are crushed, I am crushed; I mourn, and horror grips me.
24 For my sighing comes before my food, and my groanings pour out like water.
3 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When shall I come and appear before God?
11 He has turned aside my ways and torn me to pieces; He has made me desolate.
14 I have become the laughingstock of all my people; their mocking song all day long.
25 Have I not wept for those in trouble? Has not my soul grieved for the needy?
14 They open their mouths against me, like a lion ripping and roaring.
10 O Lord, all my desires are before you, and my sighing is not hidden from you.
20 My tent is destroyed, and all its ropes are broken. My children have left me—they are no more. There is no one to pitch my tent or set up my curtains.
4 My heart staggers; terror overwhelms me. The twilight I longed for has been turned into trembling for me.
8 Because of this, I will lament and wail; I will walk barefoot and naked. I will howl like jackals and mourn like ostriches.