My heart cries out over Moab, whose fugitives flee as far as Zoar, to Eglath-shelishiyah; they go up the Ascent of Luhith weeping; they raise a cry of destruction on the road to Horonaim.
How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I surrender you, Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I treat you like Zeboiim? I have had a change of heart; my compassion is stirred!
Therefore, my heart moans like flutes for Moab, and my heart moans like flutes for the people of Kir-heres. And therefore, the wealth he has gained has perished.
Look down from heaven and see from your lofty home #– #holy and beautiful. Where is your zeal and your might? Your yearning and your compassion are withheld from me.
Isn’t Ephraim a precious son to me, a delightful child? Whenever I speak against him, I certainly still think about him. Therefore, my inner being yearns for him; I will truly have compassion on him. This is the Lord’s declaration.
My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in agony! Oh, the pain in my heart! My heart pounds; I cannot be silent. For you, my soul, have heard the sound of the ram’s horn – the shout of battle.
Lord, see how I am in distress. I am churning within; my heart is broken, for I have been very rebellious. Outside, the sword takes the children; inside, there is death.