My soul, my soul! I writhe in anguish and pain! Oh, the walls of my heart! My heart is pounding and throbbing within me; I cannot be silent, For you have heard, O my soul, The sound of the trumpet, The alarm of war.
[It is not only the prophet but also the people who cry out in their thoughts] My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain! Oh, the walls of my heart! My heart is disquieted and throbs aloud within me; I cannot be silent! For I have heard the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.
My sadness and worry is making my stomach hurt. I am bent over in pain. I am so afraid. My heart is pounding inside me. I cannot keep quiet, because I have heard the trumpet blow. The trumpet is calling the army to war.
Oh, ·how I hurt [my pain/anguish/L innards]! ·How I hurt [My pain/anguish/L innards]! ·I am bent over in pain [L My heart writhes]. Oh, the ·torture in [L walls of] my heart! My heart is pounding inside me. I cannot keep quiet, because I have heard the sound of the ·trumpet [ram’s horn]. I have heard the shouts of war.
Oh, how I hurt! How I hurt! I am bent over in pain. Oh, the torture in my heart! My heart is pounding inside me. I cannot keep quiet. This is because I have heard the sound of the trumpet. I have heard the words of war.
I’m doubled up with cramps in my belly— a poker burns in my gut. My insides are tearing me up, never a moment’s peace. The ram’s horn trumpet blast rings in my ears, the signal for all-out war. Disaster hard on the heels of disaster, the whole country in ruins! In one stroke my home is destroyed, the walls flattened in the blink of an eye. How long do I have to look at the warning flares, listen to the siren of danger?
Oh, how I hurt! How I hurt! I am bent over in pain. Oh, the torture in my heart! My heart is pounding inside me. I cannot keep quiet, because I have heard the sound of the trumpet. I have heard the shouts of war.
I said, “Oh, the feeling in the pit of my stomach! I writhe in anguish. Oh, the pain in my heart! My heart pounds within me. I cannot keep silent. For I hear the sound of the trumpet; the sound of the battle cry pierces my soul!
My innards, my innards! I am pained at my very lev; my lev is pounding in me; I cannot keep silent, because thou hast heard, O my nefesh, the kol shofar (sound of the shofar), the teru’at milchamah (battle alarm of war).
I’ve got this awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’m in agony. Every beat of my heart pounds with an awful dread. I can’t stay silent, for I know what is coming— oh my soul, there it is: the blast of the trumpet; The battle cries of the invading hoards.
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