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Job in his despair and frustration responds as he and his friends have been taught by previous generations to display grief: by donning sackcloth and covering the head with dust to show devastation, as if everything has been lost even to the point of death.

15 Job: Well, I have sewed the sackcloth to my very skin
        and buried my mighty forehead in the dirt.
16     My face, red and hot, boils over in tears;
        the shadow of darkness lies heavy on my eyelids,
17     No matter that my hands are free of violence,
        and my prayer is pure.

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15 “I have sewed sackcloth(A) over my skin
    and buried my brow in the dust.(B)
16 My face is red with weeping,(C)
    dark shadows ring my eyes;(D)
17 yet my hands have been free of violence(E)
    and my prayer is pure.(F)

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