From the sole of the foot even to the head there is no soundness or health in [the nation’s body]—but wounds and bruises and fresh and bleeding stripes; they have not been pressed out and closed up or bound up or softened with oil. [No one has troubled to seek a remedy.]
There is no ·healthy spot [soundness] from the ·bottom [sole] of your foot to the top of your head; you are covered with ·wounds [bruises], ·hurts [sores; welts], and ·open sores [raw/infected wounds] that are not ·cleaned [L pressed out] and ·covered [bandaged], ·and no medicine takes away the pain [L not soothed/softened with oil].
There is no healthy spot from the bottom of your foot to the top of your head. You are covered with wounds, hurts and open sores. Your wounds are not cleaned and covered. No medicine takes away the pain.
Oh, my people, haven’t you had enough of punishment? Why will you force me to whip you again and again? Must you forever rebel? From head to foot you are sick and weak and faint, covered with bruises and welts and infected wounds, unanointed and unbound.
“Why bother even trying to do anything with you when you just keep to your bullheaded ways? You keep beating your heads against brick walls. Everything within you protests against you. From the bottom of your feet to the top of your head, nothing’s working right. Wounds and bruises and running sores— untended, unwashed, unbandaged. Your country is laid waste, your cities burned down. Your land is destroyed by outsiders while you watch, reduced to rubble by barbarians. Daughter Zion is deserted— like a tumbledown shack on a dead-end street, Like a tarpaper shanty on the wrong side of the tracks, like a sinking ship abandoned by the rats. If God-of-the-Angel-Armies hadn’t left us a few survivors, we’d be as desolate as Sodom, doomed just like Gomorrah.
From the soles of your feet to your head, there is no spot that is unharmed. There are only bruises, cuts, and open wounds. They have not been cleansed or bandaged, nor have they been treated with olive oil.
There isn’t a healthy spot on your body. You are not healthy from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head. You have nothing but wounds, cuts and open sores. They haven’t been cleaned up or bandaged or treated with olive oil.
Why do you insist on taking a beating? Why do you persist in such reckless rebellion? Your bodies already suffer head to toe— your heads ache and hearts flutter; Your skin is covered with bruises, swollen with welts, and gaping with wounds, with no tending, no healing, no soothing.
From the sole of the foot till to the noll, health is not therein; wound, and wanness, and beating swelling (that) is not bound about (and swelling from a beating that is not bound up), neither cured by medicine, neither nursed with oil.
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