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In the world of the dead you are not remembered;
    no one can praise you there.

I am worn out with grief;
    every night my bed is damp from my weeping;
    my pillow is soaked with tears.
I can hardly see;
    my eyes are so swollen
    from the weeping caused by my enemies.

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Among the dead no one proclaims your name.
    Who praises you from the grave?(A)

I am worn out(B) from my groaning.(C)

All night long I flood my bed with weeping(D)
    and drench my couch with tears.(E)
My eyes grow weak(F) with sorrow;
    they fail because of all my foes.

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