Wherefore hath my pain become perpetual? And my wound, incurable? Refuseth to be healed? Wilt thou, indeed be, to me As a brook that disappointeth, Waters that cannot be trusted?
Why shouldst thou make outcry over thine injury, Incurable is tiny pain? Because of the abounding of thine iniquity, Because numerous have been thy sins Have I done these things unto thee.
Concerning mine own right, shall I tell a falsehood? Incurable is my disease - not for any transgression.
For dangerous are her wounds, - for she hath come as far as Judah, she hath reached as far as the gate of my people, as far as Jerusalem.
And, their nobles have sent their menials to the waters, - They have been to the pits, They have found no water They have returned, their vessels empty, They are pale and ashamed and have covered their heads.
Mine own brethren, have proved treacherous like a torrent, like a channel of torrents which disappear:
How long, O Yahweh, wilt thou wholly forget me? How long wilt thou hide thy face from me?
I, therefore - lo! I have set thee to-day as a fortified city, and as a pillar of iron and as walls of bronze, over all the land, - against the kings of Judah, against her princes, against her priests and against the people of the land.
Hast thou, utterly rejected, Judah? Zion itself, hath thy soul loathed? Why, hast thou smitten us so that there is for us no healing? A waiting For prosperity, but no welfare, and For a time of healing, but lo! terror!
Thou didst persuade me, O Yahweh and I was persuaded, Thou didst lay firm hold on me and didst prevail, - I am become a mockery, all the day, Every one, is laughing at me.
I, am the man, that hath seen affliction, by the rod of his indignation;