7My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food.
7My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food.
4 For arrows of the Mighty are with me, Whose poison is drinking up my spirit. Terrors of God array themselves for me!
5 Brayeth a wild ass over tender grass? Loweth an ox over his provender?
6 Eaten is an insipid thing without salt? Is there sense in the drivel of dreams?
7 My soul is refusing to touch! They are as my sickening food.
8 O that my request may come, That God may grant my hope!
9 That God would please — and bruise me, Loose His hand and cut me off!
6:7The things [that] my soul refused to touch [are] as my sorrowful meat.
6:7I refuse to touch it; such food makes me ill.
6:7The things which before my soul would not touch, now, through anguish are my meats.
6:7My soul refuseth to touch them ; They are as loathsome food to me.
6:7What my soul refuseth to touch, that is as my loathsome food.
6:7My soul refuseth to touch them; they are as loathsome meat to me.
6:7The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful food.
6:7My soul refuses to touch them. They are as loathsome food to me.
6:7The things that my soul refused to touch are as my sorrowful meat.