And Jehovah said to Moses, Rise early in the morning, and stand before Pharaoh. Behold, he is about to go out to the water. And say to him, So says Jehovah, Send away My people that they may serve Me.
Is Ephraim My dear son? Or is he a delightful child? For as often as I spoke against him, remembering I remember him still. So My bowels are stirred for him; pitying I will have pity on him, a statement of Jehovah.
My bowels! My bowels! I convulse in pain. O walls of my heart! My heart roars within me. I cannot be silent, for I have heard the sound of the rams’ horn. O my soul, the alarm of war!
See, O Jehovah, for distress is to me. My bowels ferment; my heart is turned over within me; for rebelling I have rebelled. On the outside the sword bereaves; in the house it is as death.
And my eyes are at an end with tears, my bowels ferment; my liver is poured on the ground for the ruin of the daughter of my people, in the fainting of children and sucklings in the broad places of the city.