They sowed, wheat, but thorns, have they reaped, They have put themselves to pain they shall not be profited, - Yea turn ye pale at your produce, Because if the glow of the anger of Yahweh.

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?

Wherefore was it - That from the womb, I came forth, to see labour and pain; and That in shame should my days be consumed!

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.

Thou didst say, Surely woe to me! For Yahweh hath added sorrow unto my pain, - I am weary with my moaning, And rest, have I not found!

Lo! as an eagle, he shall mount and dart, and spread his wings over Bozrah, - So shall the heart of the heroes of Edom, in that day, become as the heart of a woman in her pain.

The king of Babylon hath beard the report of them, And unnerved are his hands, - Anguish, hath seized him, Writhing pain, as a woman in child-birth.

Suddenly, hath Babylon fallen and been broken, - Howl ye over her Fetch balsam for her pain, Peradventure she shall be healed!

Then did the land tremble and was in pain, - For the plans of Yahweh, had been established against Babylon, To make the land of Babylon an astonishment, without inhabitant.