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But what shall I do? If I speak, my sorrow resteth not; and if I am still, it goeth not away from me.

But now my sorrow hath oppressed me, and all my limbs be driven into nought.

My rivellings say witnessing against me, and a false speaker is raised up against my face, and against-saith me. (My wrinkles testify against me, and a liar is raised up before me, and speaketh against me.)

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“Yet if I speak, my pain is not relieved;
    and if I refrain, it does not go away.(A)
Surely, God, you have worn me out;(B)
    you have devastated my entire household.(C)
You have shriveled me up—and it has become a witness;
    my gauntness(D) rises up and testifies against me.(E)

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