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Isaiah 38:12 - Tree of Life Version

12 Like a shepherd’s tent, my dwelling is pulled up and carried away from me. Like a weaver I rolled up my life. He cuts me off from the loom. From day until night You make my end.

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Tuilleadh leaganacha

King James Version (Oxford) 1769

12 Mine age is departed, and is removed from me as a shepherd's tent: I have cut off like a weaver my life: he will cut me off with pining sickness: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.

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Amplified Bible - Classic Edition

12 My [fleshly] dwelling is plucked up and is removed from me like a shepherd's tent. I have rolled up my life as a weaver [rolls up the finished web]; [the Lord] cuts me free from the loom; from day to night You bring me to an end.

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American Standard Version (1901)

12 My dwelling is removed, and is carried away from me as a shepherd’s tent: I have rolled up, like a weaver, my life; he will cut me off from the loom: From day even to night wilt thou make an end of me.

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Common English Bible

12 My lifetime is plucked up and taken from me like a shepherd’s tent. My life is shriveled like woven cloth; God cuts me off from the loom. Between daybreak and nightfall you carry out your verdict against me.

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Catholic Public Domain Version

12 My longevity has been taken away; it has been folded up and taken from me, like the tent of a shepherd. My life has been cut off, as if by a weaver. While I was still beginning, he cut me off. From morning until evening, you have marked out my limits.

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Isaiah 38:12
20 Tagairtí Cros  

Like a flower he comes up and withers; like a shadow he flees and does not stay.


“My spirit is broken, my days have cut short, the graveyard awaits me.


From morning until evening they are beaten into pieces— unnoticed, they perish forever.


that God would be willing to crush me, to release His hand, and cut me off!


because of Your indignation and wrath, for You have picked me up and tossed me aside.


Though princes sit and talk against me, Your servant meditates on Your decrees.


Blessed be Adonai, for He has shown me His wonderful love in a besieged city.


For all day I have been stricken, my chastisement comes every morning.


You sweep them away in their sleep. In the morning they are like sprouting grass—


So the Daughter of Zion is left as a sukkah in a vineyard, as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers, as a besieged city.


It will never be inhabited, nor will it be dwelt in from generation to generation, nor will an Arab pitch a tent there, nor will shepherds let flocks lie there.


For we know that if the tent, our earthly home, is torn down, we have a building from God—a home not made with human hands, eternal in the heavens.


For we groan while we are in this tent—burdened because we don’t want to be unclothed but to be clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.


And like a robe You will roll them up, and like clothing they will be changed; but You are the same, and Your years shall never end.”


Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. What is your life? For you are a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes.


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