Job 19:2
Till when do ye afflict my soul, And bruise me with words?
Till when do ye afflict my soul, And bruise me with words?
These verses are found using AI-powered semantic similarity based on meaning and context. Results may occasionally include unexpected connections.
1And Job answereth and saith: --
3These ten times ye put me to shame, ye blush not. Ye make yourselves strange to me --
2When do ye set an end to words? Consider ye, and afterwards do we speak.
3Wherefore have we been reckoned as cattle? We have been defiled in your eyes!
3And my soul hath been troubled greatly, And Thou, O Jehovah, till when?
17Because with a tempest He bruiseth me, And hath multiplied my wounds for nought.
18He permitteth me not to refresh my spirit, But filleth me with bitter things.
1And Job addeth to lift up his simile, and saith: --
2God liveth! He turned aside my judgment, And the Mighty -- He made my soul bitter.
19How long dost Thou not look from me? Thou dost not desist till I swallow my spittle.
1And Job answereth and saith: --
2I have heard many such things, Miserable comforters `are' ye all.
3Is there an end to words of wind? Or what doth embolden thee that thou answerest?
4I also, like you, might speak, If your soul were in my soul's stead. I might join against you with words, And nod at you with my head.
5I might harden you with my mouth, And the moving of my lips might be sparing.
6If I speak, my pain is not restrained, And I cease -- what goeth from me?
7Only, now, it hath wearied me; Thou hast desolated all my company,
2Till when dost thou speak these things? And a strong wind -- sayings of thy mouth?
2Till when do I set counsels in my soul? Sorrow inn my heart daily? Till when is mine enemy exalted over me?
11Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.
14He breaketh me -- breach upon breach, He runneth upon me as a mighty one.
22Why do you pursue me as God? And with my flesh are not satisfied?
4He hath worn out my flesh and my skin. He hath broken my bones.
5He hath built up against me, And setteth round poverty and weariness.
4I -- to man `is' my complaint? and if `so', wherefore May not my temper become short?
1And Job answereth and saith: --
2Also -- to-day `is' my complaint bitter, My hand hath been heavy because of my sighing.
1My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.
2I say unto God, `Do not condemn me, Let me know why Thou dost strive `with' me.
13For thou turnest against God thy spirit? And hast brought out words from thy mouth:
16And He breaketh with gravel my teeth, He hath covered me with ashes.
5All the day they wrest my words, Concerning me all their thoughts `are' for evil,
11My ways He is turning aside, and He pulleth me in pieces, He hath made me a desolation.
26For reproof -- do you reckon words? And for wind -- sayings of the desperate.
5If, truly, over me ye magnify yourselves, And decide against me my reproach;
4They utter -- they speak an old saw, All working iniquity do boast themselves.
5Thy people, O Jehovah, they bruise, And Thine inheritance they afflict.
18Why hath my pain been perpetual? And my wound incurable? It hath refused to be healed, Thou art surely to me as a failing stream, Waters not stedfast.
2And Job answereth and saith: --
9His anger hath torn, and he hateth me, He hath gnashed at me with his teeth, My adversary sharpeneth his eyes for me.
10They have gaped on me with their mouth, In reproach they have smitten my cheeks, Together against me they set themselves.
2O that my provocation were thoroughly weighed, And my calamity in balances They would lift up together!
1And Job answereth and saith: --
2Hear ye diligently my word, And this is your consolation.
5Then doth He speak unto them in His anger, And in His wrath He doth trouble them:
19Who `is' he that doth strive with me? For now I keep silent and gasp.
12At 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.
10Turn 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.
3Till when do ye devise mischief against a man? Ye are destroyed all of you, As a wall inclined, a hedge that is cast down.