We have heard the report of it: our hands grow feeble: anguish has taken hold of us, and pain, as of a woman in travail.

They have sown wheat, but shall reap thorns: they have put themselves to pain, but shall not profit: and they shall be ashamed of your harvest because of the fierce anger of the LORD.

Why is my pain perpetual, and my wound incurable, which refuses to be healed? will you be altogether unto me as a deceitful brook, and as waters that fail?

O inhabitant of Lebanon, that makes your nest in the cedars, how gracious shall you be when pangs come upon you, the pain as of a woman in travail!

Behold, the whirlwind of the LORD goes forth with fury, a continuing whirlwind: it shall fall with pain upon the head of the wicked.

Babylon is suddenly fallen and destroyed: wail for her; take balm for her pain, if so be she may be healed.