T his is the city that is full of joy and takes it easy and thinks it is safe. It says to itself, “I am, and there is no one else.” How it has become a waste, a resting place for animals! All who pass by will make fun of her and laugh at her shaking their hands.
This is the joyous city that dwelt carelessly, that said in her heart, I am, and there is none besides me: how is she become a desolation, a place for beasts to lie down in! every one that passeth by her shall hiss, and wag his hand.
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