and said to the sovereign, “Let the sovereign live forever! Why should my face not be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers’ burial-sites, lies waste, and its gates are burned with fire?”
Jeremiah 8:21 - The Scriptures 2009 For the breach of the daughter of my people I have been broken. I have grown sad; astonishment has taken hold of me. Dugang nga mga bersyonKing James Version (Oxford) 1769 For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt; I am black; astonishment hath taken hold on me. Amplified Bible - Classic Edition For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I [Jeremiah] hurt; I go around mourning; dismay has taken hold on me. American Standard Version (1901) For the hurt of the daughter of my people am I hurt: I mourn; dismay hath taken hold on me. Common English Bible Because my people are crushed, I am crushed; darkness and despair overwhelm me. Catholic Public Domain Version Over the destruction of the daughter of my people, I am contrite and saddened; astonishment has taken hold of me. Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version For the affliction of the daughter of my people, I am afflicted: and made sorrowful: astonishment hath taken hold on me. |
and said to the sovereign, “Let the sovereign live forever! Why should my face not be sad, when the city, the place of my fathers’ burial-sites, lies waste, and its gates are burned with fire?”
“And you shall say this word to them, ‘Let my eyes flow with tears night and day, and let them not cease; for the maiden daughter of my people has been crushed with a mighty blow, with a very severe wound.
“Yehuḏah has mourned, and her gates have languished. They have mourned on the ground, and the cry of Yerushalayim has gone up.
And I have not run away from being a shepherd who follows You, nor have I longed for the desperately sick day. You Yourself have known, that which came out of my lips was before You.
O my inward parts, my inward parts! I am in pain! O the walls of my heart! My heart pounds in me, I am not silent. For you have heard, O my being, a voice of a shophar, a shout of battle!
“The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we have not been saved!”
Oh, that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, and I would weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!
She is empty, even emptiness and waste! And the heart has melted, and the knees have knocked together, and much pain is in all loins, and all their faces have become flushed.