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Isaiah 59:11 - Christian Standard Bible Anglicised

11 We all growl like bears and moan like doves. We hope for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.

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King James Version (Oxford) 1769

11 We roar all like bears, and mourn sore like doves: we look for judgment, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

11 We all groan and growl like bears and moan plaintively like doves. We look for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.

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American Standard Version (1901)

11 We roar all like bears, and moan sore like doves: we look for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far off from us.

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Common English Bible

11 All of us growl like bears, and like doves we moan. We expect justice, but there is none; we await salvation, but it is far from us.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

11 We will all roar like bears, and we will sigh like despondent doves. We hoped for judgment, and there is none; for salvation, and it is far from us.

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Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version

11 We shall roar all of us like bears and shall lament as mournful doves. We have looked for judgment; and there is none: for salvation; and it is far from us.

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Isaiah 59:11
19 Tagairtí Cros  

I chirp like a swallow or a crane; I moan like a dove. My eyes grow weak looking upwards. Lord, I am oppressed; support me.


Your children have fainted; they lie at the head of every street like an antelope in a net. They are full of the  Lord’s fury, the rebuke of your God.


Justice is turned back, and righteousness stands far off. For truth has stumbled in the public square, and honesty cannot enter.


They have not known the path of peace, and there is no justice in their ways. They have made their roads crooked; no one who walks on them will know peace.


Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not reach us. We hope for light, but there is darkness; for brightness, but we live in the night.


We hoped for peace, but there was nothing good; for a time of healing, but there was only terror.


If my head were a flowing spring, my eyes a fountain of tears, I would weep day and night over the slain of my dear   people.


I have been deprived  of peace; I have forgotten what prosperity is.


The survivors among them will escape and live on the mountains. Like doves of the valley, all of them will moan, each over his own iniquity.


They do not cry to me from their hearts; rather, they wail on their beds. They slash themselves  , for grain and new wine; they turn away from me.


Beauty  is stripped; she is carried away; her ladies-in-waiting moan like the sound of doves and beat their breasts.


Nineveh has been like a pool of water from her first days, but they are fleeing. ‘Stop! Stop! ’ they cry, but no one turns back.


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