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27 My heart is troubled, and doesn’t rest.
    Days of affliction have come on me.
28 I go mourning without the sun.
    I stand up in the assembly, and cry for help.
29 I am a brother to jackals,
    and a companion to ostriches.
30 My skin grows black and peels from me.
    My bones are burned with heat.
31 Therefore my harp has turned to mourning,
    and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.

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27 I’m boiling mad inside, and I won’t remain silent;
    the time for my affliction to confront me has arrived.

28 “In growing darkness, I walked without sunlight;
    I stood in the congregation to cry for help.
29 I’ve become a brother to jackals,
    and a friend to ostriches.
30 My skin turns black all over me;
    and my bones seem burned from the heat.
31 But my harp is in mourning;
    my flute plays only songs for those who are weeping.”

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