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From the sole of the foot even to the head there is no soundness in it:
    wounds, welts, and open sores.
    They haven’t been closed, bandaged, or soothed with oil.
Your country is desolate.
    Your cities are burned with fire.
    Strangers devour your land in your presence
    and it is desolate,
    as overthrown by strangers.
The daughter of Zion is left like a shelter in a vineyard,
    like a hut in a field of melons,
    like a besieged city.

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