18 My refreshing for me 'is' sorrow, For me my heart 'is' sick.
19 Lo, the voice of a cry of the daughter of my people from a land afar off, Is Jehovah not in Zion? is her king not in her? Wherefore have they provoked Me with their graven images, With the vanities of a foreigner?
20 Harvest hath passed, summer hath ended, And we -- we have not been saved.
21 For a breach of the daughter of my people have I been broken, I have been black, astonishment hath seized me.
22 Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? For wherefore hath not the health of the daughter of my people gone up?
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