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Lamentations 1:2 - The Message

2 She cries herself to sleep each night, tears soaking her pillow. No one’s left among her lovers to sit and hold her hand. Her friends have all dumped her.

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Más versiones

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

2 She weepeth sore in the night, And her tears are on her cheeks: Among all her lovers She hath none to comfort her: All her friends have dealt treacherously with her, They are become her enemies.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

2 She weeps bitterly in the night, and her tears are [constantly] on her cheeks. Among all her lovers (allies) she has no one to comfort her. All her friends have dealt treacherously with her; they have become her enemies. [Jer. 3:1; 4:30.]

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American Standard Version (1901)

2 She weepeth sore in the night, and her tears are on her cheeks; Among all her lovers she hath none to comfort her: All her friends have dealt treacherously with her; they are become her enemies.

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Common English Bible

2 She weeps bitterly in the night, her tears on her cheek. None of her lovers comfort her. All her friends lied to her; they have become her enemies.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

2 BETH. Weeping, she has wept through the night, and her tears are on her cheeks. There is no one to be a comfort to her and to all her beloved. All her friends have spurned her, and they have become her enemies.

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Lamentations 1:2
30 Referencias Cruzadas  

I’m tired of all this—so tired. My bed has been floating forty days and nights On the flood of my tears. My mattress is soaked, soggy with tears. The sockets of my eyes are black holes; nearly blind, I squint and grope.


“Oh, listen to my groans. No one listens, no one cares. When my enemies heard of the trouble you gave me, they cheered. Bring on Judgment Day! Let them get what I got!


“I called to my friends; they betrayed me. My priests and my leaders only looked after themselves, trying but failing to save their own skins.


She played fast and loose with life, she never considered tomorrow, and now she’s crashed royally, with no one to hold her hand: “Look at my pain, O God! And how the enemy cruelly struts.”


I wish my head were a well of water and my eyes fountains of tears So I could weep day and night for casualties among my dear, dear people. At times I wish I had a wilderness hut, a backwoods cabin, Where I could get away from my people and never see them again. They’re a faithless, feckless bunch, a congregation of degenerates. * * *


And you, what do you think you’re up to? Dressing up in party clothes, Decking yourselves out in jewelry, putting on lipstick and rouge and mascara! Your primping goes for nothing. You’re not going to seduce anyone. They’re out to kill you! And what’s that I hear? The cry of a woman in labor, the screams of a mother giving birth to her firstborn. It’s the cry of Daughter Zion, gasping for breath, reaching out for help: “Help, oh help me! I’m dying! The killers are on me!”


My eyes are blind with tears, my stomach in a knot. My insides have turned to jelly over my people’s fate. Babies and children are fainting all over the place,


God’s Message came to me as follows: “If a man’s wife walks out on him And marries another man, can he take her back as if nothing had happened? Wouldn’t that raise a huge stink in the land? And isn’t that what you’ve done— ‘whored’ your way with god after god? And now you want to come back as if nothing had happened.” God’s Decree.


When you’re down on your luck, even your family avoids you— yes, even your best friends wish you’d get lost. If they see you coming, they look the other way— out of sight, out of mind.


“Slow down. Take a deep breath. What’s the hurry? Why wear yourself out? Just what are you after anyway? But you say, ‘I can’t help it. I’m addicted to alien gods. I can’t quit.’ * * *


They put poison in my soup, Vinegar in my drink.


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