15 The sword 'is' without, And the pestilence and the famine within, He who is in a field by sword dieth, And he who is in a city, Famine and pestilence devour him.
16 And escaped away have their fugitives, And they have been on the mountains As doves of the valleys, All of them make a noising -- each for his iniquity.
17 All the hands are feeble, and all knees go -- waters.
18 And they have girded on sackcloth, And covered them hath trembling, And unto all faces 'is' shame, And on all their heads -- baldness.
19 Their silver into out-places they cast, And their gold impurity becometh. Their silver and their gold is not able to deliver them, In a day of the wrath of Jehovah, Their soul they do not satisfy, And their bowels they do not fill, For the stumbling-block of their iniquity it hath been.
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