Job 16:15
Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
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16 My face is foul with weeping, And on mine eyelids `is' death-shade.
18 By the abundance of power, Is my clothing changed, As the mouth of my coat it doth gird me.
19 Casting me into mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
5 Clothed hath been my flesh `with' worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,
12 At ease I have been, and he breaketh me, And he hath laid hold on my neck, And he breaketh me in pieces, And he raiseth me to him for a mark.
13 Go round against me do his archers. He splitteth my reins, and spareth not, He poureth out to the earth my gall.
14 He breaketh me -- breach upon breach, He runneth upon me as a mighty one.
6 Therefore do I loathe `it', And I have repented on dust and ashes.
9 Mine honour from off me He hath stripped, And He turneth the crown from my head.
16 And He breaketh with gravel my teeth, He hath covered me with ashes.
11 And I make my clothing sackcloth, And I am to them for a simile.
4 He hath worn out my flesh and my skin. He hath broken my bones.
7 Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company,
8 And Thou dost loathe me, For a witness it hath been, And rise up against me doth my failure, In my face it testifieth.
9 His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me.
10 They have gaped on me with their mouth, In reproach they have smitten my cheeks, Together against me they set themselves.
31 Then in corruption Thou dost dip me, And my garments have abominated me.
16 And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
15 Dried up as an earthen vessel is my power, And my tongue is cleaving to my jaws.
5 From the voice of my sighing Hath my bone cleaved to my flesh.
11 My ways He is turning aside, and He pulleth me in pieces, He hath made me a desolation.
6 I have been bent down, I have been bowed down -- unto excess, All the day I have gone mourning.
13 From above He hath sent fire into my bone, And it subdueth it, He hath spread a net for my feet, He hath turned me backward, He hath made me desolate -- all the day sick.
14 Bound hath been the yoke of my transgressions by His hand, They are wrapped together, They have gone up on my neck, He hath caused my power to stumble, The Lord hath given me into hands, I am not able to rise.
9 Because ashes as bread I have eaten, And my drink with weeping have mingled,
13 And I -- in their sickness my clothing `is' sackcloth, I have humbled with fastings my soul, And my prayer unto my bosom returneth.
14 As `if' a friend, as `if' my brother, I walked habitually, As a mourner for a mother, Mourning I have bowed down.
30 My skin hath been black upon me, And my bone hath burned from heat,
31 And my harp doth become mourning, And my organ the sound of weeping.
15 All the day my confusion `is' before me, And the shame of my face hath covered me.
6 And he set me up for a proverb of the peoples, And a wonder before them I am.
7 And dim from sorrow is mine eye, And my members as a shadow all of them.
10 For my life hath been consumed in sorrow And my years in sighing. Feeble because of mine iniquity hath been my strength, And my bones have become old.
8 Wail, as a virgin girdeth with sackcloth, For the husband of her youth.
20 My interpreter `is' my friend, Unto God hath mine eye dropped:
3 I clothe the heavens `with' blackness, And sackcloth I make their covering.
10 Turn aside from off me Thy stroke, From the striving of Thy hand I have been consumed.
15 -- What do I say? seeing He said to me, And He Himself hath wrought, I go softly all my years for the bitterness of my soul.
15 If I have done wickedly -- wo to me, And righteously -- I lift not up my head, Full of shame -- then see my affliction,
10 And yet it is my comfort, (And I exult in pain -- He doth not spare,) That I have not hidden The sayings of the Holy One.
36 If not -- on my shoulder I take it up, I bind it a crown on myself.
1 My spirit hath been destroyed, My days extinguished -- graves `are' for me.
1 I `am' the man `who' hath seen affliction By the rod of His wrath.
14 Wherefore do I take my flesh in my teeth? And my soul put in my hand?
19 Wo to me for my breaking, Grievious hath been my smiting, And I said, Only, this `is' my sickness, and I bear it.
14 And I am plagued all the day, And my reproof `is' every morning.
4 And my spirit in me is become feeble, Within me is my heart become desolate.
20 I have sinned, what do I to Thee, O watcher of man? Why hast Thou set me for a mark to Thee, And I am for a burden to myself -- and what?
29 He putteth in the dust his mouth, if so be there is hope.
28 Mourning I have gone without the sun, I have risen, in an assembly I cry.