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30 And you, O desolate one, what will you do?
    Though you dress in scarlet,
    though you adorn yourself with gold ornaments
    though you enlarge your eyes with paint—
    in vain
        you make yourself beautiful—
    your lovers despise you,
        they seek your life.
31 For I heard a cry like one in labor,
    the anguish of one giving birth to her first child—
    the cry of the Daughter of Zion gasping for breath,
        stretching out her hands saying,
        Oy, now to me!
        For my soul faints
        before murderers.”

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