and said, “O my Elohim, I am too ashamed and wounded to lift up my face to You, my Elohim, for our crookednesses have risen higher than our heads, and our guilt has grown up to the heavens.
See, the wages of the workmen who mowed your fields, which you kept back, cry out. And the cries of the reapers have reached the ears of יהוה of hosts.
Whenever I said, “Let me not mention Him, nor speak in His Name again,” it was in my heart like a burning fire shut up in my bones. And I became weary of holding it back, and was helpless.
Your injury has no healing, your wound is grievous. All who hear news of you shall clap their hands over you. For over whom did your evil not pass continually?
