My heart cries out for Moab. Her fugitives are as far as Zoar as a three year old heifer, for by the ascent of Luhith they go up with weeping, for on the way of Horonaim they raise a cry of distress.
Therefore my body is filled with pain. Pangs have taken hold of me like the pangs of a woman in labor. I am bewildered by what I hear, terrified by what I see.
Look down from heaven and see from Your holy, glorious, lofty abode. Where are Your zeal and mighty deeds? Are the yearnings of Your heart, Your compassions, withheld from me?
Erect road markers, set up signposts! Set your heart toward the highway, the way by which you traveled! Return, O virgin Israel, return to your cities.
My stomach, my stomach! I writhe in anguish! The pain of my heart! My heart is pounding within me! I cannot keep silent because I have heard, O my soul, the sound of the shofar, the battle-cry of war.
“That is why my heart is moaning like funeral flutes for Moab, and my heart moans like flutes for the people of Kir-heres. Thus the wealth he made is lost.
Look, Adonai, for I am in distress! My stomach churns, my heart pounds within me, for I have been very rebellious. Outside, the sword bereaves, in the house it is like death.
“How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I surrender you, Israel? How can I make you like Admah? How can I set you as Zeboim? My heart is turning over within Me. My compassions are kindled.
Therefore if there is any encouragement in Messiah, if there is any comfort of love, if there is any fellowship of the Ruach, if there is any mercy and compassion,