15 Terrors are turned upon me; They chase mine honor as the wind; And my welfare is passed away as a cloud.
16 And now my soul is poured out within me; Days of affliction have taken hold upon me.
17 In the night season my bones are pierced in me, And the 'pains' that gnaw me take no rest.
18 By 'God's' great force is my garment disfigured; It bindeth me about as the collar of my coat.
19 He hath cast me into the mire, And I am become like dust and ashes.
Share this page