My heart cries out for Moab; his fugitives flee to Zoar, to Eglath-shelishiyah. For at the ascent of Luhith they go up weeping; on the road to Horonaim they raise a cry of destruction;
Isaiah 16:11 - New Revised Standard Version Updated Edition 2021 Therefore my heart moans like a harp for Moab and my very soul for Kir-heres. More versionsKing James Version (Oxford) 1769 Wherefore my bowels shall sound like an harp for Moab, and mine inward parts for Kirharesh. Amplified Bible - Classic Edition Wherefore my heart sounds like a harp [in mournful compassion] for Moab, and my inner being [goes out] for Kir-hareseth [for those brick-walled citadels of his]. American Standard Version (1901) Wherefore my heart soundeth like a harp for Moab, and mine inward parts for Kir-heres. Common English Bible Therefore, my heart plays sadly like a harp for Moab, my inner being for Kir-heres. Catholic Public Domain Version Over this, my heart will resonate like a harp for Moab, and my inner most being for the brick wall. Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version Wherefore my bowels shall sound like a harp for Moab, and my inward parts for the brick wall. |
My heart cries out for Moab; his fugitives flee to Zoar, to Eglath-shelishiyah. For at the ascent of Luhith they go up weeping; on the road to Horonaim they raise a cry of destruction;
Therefore my loins are filled with anguish; pangs have seized me like the pangs of a woman in labor; I am bowed down so that I cannot hear; I am dismayed so that I cannot see.
Look down from heaven and see, from your holy and glorious habitation. Where are your zeal and your might? Your great pity and your compassion are withheld from me.
Is Ephraim my dear son? Is he the child in whom I delight? As often as I speak against him, I still remember him. Therefore I am deeply moved for him; I will surely have mercy on him, says the Lord.
My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain! Oh, the walls of my heart! My heart is beating wildly; I cannot keep silent, for I hear the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.
Therefore I wail for Moab; I cry out for all Moab; for the people of Kir-heres I mourn.
Therefore my heart moans for Moab like a flute, and my heart moans like a flute for the people of Kir-heres, for the riches they gained have perished.
Look, O Lord, at how distressed I am; my stomach churns; my heart is wrung within me because I have been very rebellious. In the street the sword bereaves; in the house it is like death.
How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, O Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? My heart recoils within me; my compassion grows warm and tender.
If, then, there is any comfort in Christ, any consolation from love, any partnership in the Spirit, any tender affection and sympathy,