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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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