גַּם־הַ֭יּוֹם מְרִ֣י שִׂחִ֑י יָ֝דִ֗י כָּבְדָ֥ה עַל־אַנְחָתִֽי׃
Even to-day is my complaint bitter; My hand is become heavy because of my groaning.
Rashi on Job
my speech is bitter [The bitterness of my speech] remains in its place, for there is no consolation in your words.
Rashi on Job
my wound is heavier The wound of my plague is stronger than my sigh, for I do not complain and cry about my wound.