D aughter of my people, gird thee with sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes: make mourning, for an only son—bitter lamentation; for the spoiler cometh suddenly upon us.
Daughter of my people, clothe yourself with sackcloth, and wallow in ashes! Mourn, as for an only son, most bitter lamentation; for the destroyer shall suddenly come on us.
Continue reading Report error