Job 6:7
My soul is refusing to touch! They `are' as my sickening food.
My soul is refusing to touch! They `are' as my sickening food.
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20And his life hath nauseated bread, And his soul desirable food.
21His flesh is consumed from being seen, And high are his bones, they were not seen!
6Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams?
18All food doth their soul abominate, And they come nigh unto the gates of death,
8O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
9That God would please -- and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
10And 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.
7A satiated soul treadeth down a honeycomb, And `to' a hungry soul every bitter thing `is' sweet.
14And I say, `Ah, Lord Jehovah, lo, my soul is not defiled, and carcase, and torn thing, I have not eaten from my youth, even till now; nor come into my mouth hath abominable flesh.'
5Clothed hath been my flesh `with' worms, And a clod of dust, My skin hath been shrivelled and is loathsome,
9Because ashes as bread I have eaten, And my drink with weeping have mingled,
4Smitten as the herb, and withered, is my heart, For I have forgotten to eat my bread.
5From the voice of my sighing Hath my bone cleaved to my flesh.
15And my soul chooseth strangling, Death rather than my bones.
16I have wasted away -- not to the age do I live. Cease from me, for my days `are' vanity.
31If not -- say ye, O men of my tent, `O that we had of his flesh, we are not satisfied.'
30Is there in my tongue perverseness? Discerneth not my palate desirable things?
11All her people are sighing -- seeking bread, They have given their desirable things For food to refresh the body; See, O Jehovah, and behold attentively, For I have been lightly esteemed.
25And this `one' dieth with a bitter soul, And have not eaten with gladness.
16And now, in me my soul poureth itself out, Seize me do days of affliction.
17At night my bone hath been pierced in me, And mine eyelids do not lie down.
19Remember my affliction and my mourning, Wormwood and gall!
20Remember well, and bow down doth my soul in me.
11Also I -- I withhold not my mouth -- I speak in the distress of my spirit, I talk in the bitterness of my soul.
24My knees have been feeble from fasting, And my flesh hath failed of fatness.
1My wo `is' to me, for I have been As gatherings of summer-fruit, As gleanings of harvest, There is no cluster to eat, The first-ripe fruit desired hath my soul.
3For now, than the sands of the sea it is heavier, Therefore my words have been rash.
4For arrows of the Mighty `are' with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves `for' me!
3My tear hath been to me bread day and night, In their saying unto me all the day, `Where `is' thy God?'
18My refreshing for me `is' sorrow, For me my heart `is' sick.
24For before my food, my sighing cometh, And poured out as waters `are' my roarings.
27My bowels have boiled, and have not ceased, Gone before me have days of affliction.
6the person who cometh against it -- hath even been unclean till the evening, and doth not eat of the holy things, but hath bathed his flesh with water,
4And my spirit in me is become feeble, Within me is my heart become desolate.
4He hath worn out my flesh and my skin. He hath broken my bones.
21For my heart doth show itself violent, And my reins prick themselves,
9Favour me, O Jehovah, for distress `is' to me, Mine eye, my soul, and my body Have become old by provocation.
10For 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.
15He hath filled me with bitter things, He hath filled me `with' wormwood.
16And He breaketh with gravel my teeth, He hath covered me with ashes.
1My soul hath been weary of my life, I leave off my talking to myself, I speak in the bitterness of my soul.
3And my soul hath been troubled greatly, And Thou, O Jehovah, till when?
22Only -- his flesh for him is pained, And his soul for him doth mourn.'
6Therefore do I loathe `it', And I have repented on dust and ashes.
15Sackcloth I have sewed on my skin, And have rolled in the dust my horn.
7For my flanks have been full of drought, And soundness is not in my flesh.
6and now our soul `is' dry, there is not anything, save the manna, before our eyes.'
8And I cut off the three shepherds in one month, and my soul is grieved with them, and also their soul hath abhorred me.
19I called for my lovers, they -- they have deceived me, My priests and my elders in the city have expired; When they have sought food for themselves, Then they give back their soul.
13From 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.