Even in laughter the heart may ache, ¹  and the end ²  of joy may be ³  grief.

Uriah the Hittite, Zabad son of Achli,

Because of the anxiety that makes me groan, my bones protrude from my skin. ¹ 

Night pierces ¹  my bones; ²  my gnawing pains ³  never cease.

Or a person is chastened ¹  by pain on his bed, and with the continual strife of his bones, ² 

Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, ¹  and wine to those who are bitterly distressed; ² 

“And you, son of man, groan with an aching heart ¹  and bitterness; groan before their eyes.

“Because of the violence done to the oppressed, ¹  because of the painful cries ²  of the needy, I will spring into action,” ³  says the Lord. “I will provide the safety they so desperately desire.” ⁴ 

You keep track of my misery. ¹  Put my tears in your leather container! ²  Are they not recorded in your scroll? ³ 

For the message is a witness to what is decreed; ¹  it gives reliable testimony about how matters will turn out. ²  Even if the message ³  is not fulfilled right away, wait patiently; ⁴  for it will certainly come to pass – it will not arrive late.

For I long to see you, so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift ¹  to strengthen you,

as sorrowful, but always rejoicing, as poor, but making many rich, as having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

I for my part ¹  will do this to you: I will inflict horror on you, consumption and fever, which diminish eyesight and drain away the vitality of life. ²  You will sow your seed in vain because ³  your enemies will eat it. ⁴ 

For this reason my stomach churns; ¹  cramps overwhelm me like the contractions of a woman in labor. I am disturbed ²  by what I hear, horrified by what I see.

Like a swallow or a thrush I chirp, I coo ¹  like a dove; my eyes grow tired from looking up to the sky. ²  O sovereign master, ³  I am oppressed; help me! ⁴ 

In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness, for we do not know how we should pray, ¹  but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with inexpressible groanings.

“O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, ¹  you who kill the prophets and stone those who are sent to you! ²  How often I have longed ³  to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but ⁴  you would have none of it! ⁵