Isaiah 59:11 - English Standard Version 2016 We all growl like bears; we moan and moan like doves; we hope for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us. 更多版本King James Version (Oxford) 1769 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. Amplified Bible - Classic Edition 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. American Standard Version (1901) 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. Common English Bible 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. Catholic Public Domain Version 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. Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version 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. |
Surely his salvation is near to those who fear him, that glory may dwell in our land.
Like a swallow or a crane I chirp; I moan like a dove. My eyes are weary with looking upward. O Lord, I am oppressed; be my pledge of safety!
Your sons have fainted; they lie at the head of every street like an antelope in a net; they are full of the wrath of the Lord, the rebuke of your God.
Justice is turned back, and righteousness stands far away; for truth has stumbled in the public squares, and uprightness cannot enter.
The way of peace they do not know, and there is no justice in their paths; they have made their roads crooked; no one who treads on them knows peace.
Therefore justice is far from us, and righteousness does not overtake us; we hope for light, and behold, darkness, and for brightness, but we walk in gloom.
Oh that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!
And if any survivors escape, they will be on the mountains, like doves of the valleys, all of them moaning, each one over his iniquity.
They do not cry to me from the heart, but they wail upon their beds; for grain and wine they gash themselves; they rebel against me.
its mistress is stripped; she is carried off, her slave girls lamenting, moaning like doves and beating their breasts.
Nineveh is like a pool whose waters run away. “Halt! Halt!” they cry, but none turns back.