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    How stark the contrast; they have suffered so.
        Now they are sullied with grime,
    Unrecognizable on the streets,
        skeletal and frail, as dry as tender.

    If only they could have died valiantly by the sword—
        rather than doubled over by famine,
    This long-drawn agony of hunger,
        deprived of the yield of the field.

10     Just imagine the injustice: loving mothers
        are forced to cook their babies’ flesh.
    Children have become their food!
        All because of the destruction of the daughter of my people.

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But now they are blacker(A) than soot;
    they are not recognized in the streets.
Their skin has shriveled on their bones;(B)
    it has become as dry as a stick.

Those killed by the sword are better off
    than those who die of famine;(C)
racked with hunger, they waste away
    for lack of food from the field.(D)

10 With their own hands compassionate women
    have cooked their own children,(E)
who became their food
    when my people were destroyed.

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