19 Woe is me, for my wound! My stroke is hard to heal, and I had said, Yea, this is [my] grief, and I will bear it.
20 My tent is despoiled, and all my cords are broken; my children are gone forth from me, and they are not; there is none to stretch forth my tent any more, and to set up my curtains.
21 For the shepherds are become brutish, and have not sought Jehovah; therefore have they not acted wisely, and all their flock is scattered.
22 The voice of a rumour! Behold, it cometh, and a great commotion out of the north country, to make the cities of Judah a desolation, a dwelling-place of jackals.
23 I know, Jehovah, that the way of man is not his own; it is not in a man that walketh to direct his steps.
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