Job 16:15
I have sewed sackcloth on my skin, And have thrust my horn in the dust.
I have sewed sackcloth on my skin, And have thrust my horn in the dust.
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16 My face is red with weeping. Deep darkness is on my eyelids.
18 By great force is my garment disfigured. It binds me about as the collar of my coat.
19 He has cast me into the mire. I have become like dust and ashes.
5 My flesh is clothed with worms and clods of dust. My skin closes up, and breaks out afresh.
12 I was at ease, and he broke me apart. Yes, he has taken me by the neck, and dashed me to pieces. He has also set me up for his target.
13 His archers surround me. He splits my kidneys apart, and does not spare. He pours out my gall on the ground.
14 He breaks me with breach on breach. He runs on me like a giant.
6 Therefore I abhor myself, And repent in dust and ashes."
9 He has stripped me of my glory, And taken the crown from my head.
16 He has also broken my teeth with gravel stones; he has covered me with ashes.
11 When I made sackcloth my clothing, I became a byword to them.
4 My flesh and my skin has he made old; he has broken my bones.
7 But now, God, you have surely worn me out. You have made desolate all my company.
8 You have shriveled me up. This is a witness against me. My leanness rises up against me, It testifies to my face.
9 He has torn me in his wrath, and persecuted me; He has gnashed on me with his teeth: My adversary sharpens his eyes on me.
10 They have gaped on me with their mouth; They have struck me on the cheek reproachfully. They gather themselves together against me.
31 Yet you will plunge me in the ditch. My own clothes shall abhor me.
16 "Now my soul is poured out within me. Days of affliction have taken hold on me.
15 My strength is dried up like a potsherd. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. You have brought me into the dust of death.
5 By reason of the voice of my groaning, My bones stick to my skin.
11 He has turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces; he has made me desolate.
6 I am pained and bowed down greatly. I go mourning all day long.
13 From on high has he sent fire into my bones, and it prevails against them; He has spread a net for my feet, he has turned me back: He has made me desolate and faint all the day.
14 The yoke of my transgressions is bound by his hand; They are knit together, they are come up on my neck; he has made my strength to fail: The Lord has delivered me into their hands, against whom I am not able to stand.
9 For I have eaten ashes like bread, And mixed my drink with tears,
13 But as for me, when they were sick, my clothing was sackcloth. I afflicted my soul with fasting. My prayer returned into my own bosom.
14 I behaved myself as though it had been my friend or my brother. I bowed down mourning, as one who mourns his mother.
30 My skin grows black and peels from me. My bones are burned with heat.
31 Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of those who weep.
15 All day long my dishonor is before me, And shame covers my face,
6 "But he has made me a byword of the people. They spit in my face.
7 My eye also is dim by reason of sorrow. All my members are as a shadow.
10 For my life is spent with sorrow, My years with sighing. My strength fails because of my iniquity. My bones are wasted away.
8 Mourn like a virgin dressed in sackcloth for the husband of her youth!
20 My friends scoff at me. My eyes pour out tears to God,
3 I clothe the heavens with blackness, and I make sackcloth their covering.
10 Remove your scourge away from me. I am overcome by the blow of your hand.
15 What shall I say? he has both spoken to me, and himself has done it: I shall go softly all my years because of the bitterness of my soul.
15 If I am wicked, woe to me. If I am righteous, I still shall not lift up my head, Being filled with disgrace, And conscious of my affliction.
10 Be it still my consolation, Yes, let me exult in pain that doesn't spare, That I have not denied the words of the Holy One.
36 Surely I would carry it on my shoulder; And I would bind it to me as a crown.
1 "My spirit is consumed, my days are extinct, And the grave is ready for me.
1 I am the man that has seen affliction by the rod of his wrath.
14 Why should I take my flesh in my teeth, And put my life in my hand?
19 Woe is me because of my hurt! my wound is grievous: but I said, Truly this is [my] grief, and I must bear it.
14 For all day long have I been plagued, And punished every morning.
4 Therefore my spirit is overwhelmed within me. My heart within me is desolate.
20 If I have sinned, what do I do to you, you watcher of men? Why have you set me as a mark for you, So that I am a burden to myself?
29 Let him put his mouth in the dust, if so be there may be hope.
28 I go mourning without the sun. I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.