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Where will you be struck again,
    as you stray away more and more?
The whole head is sick,
    the whole heart faint.
From the foot to the head
    there is no soundness.
Wounds, bruises and raw sores:
    not pressed, nor bandaged,
    nor softened with oil.
Your land is desolate;
your cities are burned with fire;
your fields,
    strangers devour it in your presence—
    a desolation,
    overthrown by strangers.

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