Woe is me, because of my injury! My wound is incurable. But I said, “Truly this is a sickness, And I must bear it.” My tent is destroyed, And all my ropes are broken; My sons have gone from me and are no more. There is no one to stretch out my tent again Or to set up my curtains. For the shepherds have become stupid And have not sought the LORD; Therefore they have not prospered, And all their flock is scattered. The sound of a report! Behold, it comes— A great commotion out of the land of the north— To make the cities of Judah A desolation, a haunt of jackals.
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