My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in agony!
Oh, the pain in my heart!
My heart pounds;
I cannot be silent.
For you, my soul,
have heard the sound of the ram’s horn—
the shout of battle.

They will be exposed to the sun, the moon, and the whole heavenly host, which they have loved, served, followed, consulted, and worshiped. Their bones will not be collected and buried but will become like manure on the surface of the soil.

Even the stork in the sky
knows her seasons.
The turtledove, swallow, and crane
are aware of their migration,
but My people do not know
the requirements of the Lord.

You must not build a house or sow seed or plant a vineyard. Those things are not for you. Rather, you must live in tents your whole life, so you may live a long time on the soil where you stay as a temporary resident.’

So Jeremiah went into a cell in the dungeon and stayed there many days.

I will grant you compassion, and he will have compassion on you and allow you to return to your own soil.