For this I said, Look ye away from me; I will be bitter in my weeping, ye shall not hasten to comfort me upon the desolation of the daughter of my people.
I heard and my belly will tremble; at the voice my lips quivered: rottenness will come into my bones, and I shall tremble under me that I shall rest at the day of straits: to come up to the people he will invade him.
For the prophets my heart was broken in the midst of me, and all my bones were relaxed; I was as a man intoxicated, and as a man wine passing over him, from the face of Jehovah, and from the face of the words of his holiness.
My bowels, my bowels! I shall afflict the walls of my heart; my heart made commotion to me; I shall not be silent, for the voice of the trumpet thou didst hear, O my soul, the tumult of war.