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19 When I think of what is about to happen,
    I can’t begin to express my hurt; the wound is so deep, so painful.
But I keep telling myself,
    “This sickness is mine to bear.”
20 Like a tent, my nation has collapsed, all the ropes cut apart.
    My sons are gone,
And there is no one left to help me put things back together.
    So I am exposed, with no tent and no shelter.
21 The shepherds of my people have lost their senses;
    they never thought to ask what the Eternal would have them do.
So now they are in trouble,
    and all their flocks are scattered.

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19 Woe to me because of my injury!
    My wound(A) is incurable!
Yet I said to myself,
    “This is my sickness, and I must endure(B) it.”
20 My tent(C) is destroyed;
    all its ropes are snapped.
My children are gone from me and are no more;(D)
    no one is left now to pitch my tent
    or to set up my shelter.
21 The shepherds(E) are senseless(F)
    and do not inquire of the Lord;(G)
so they do not prosper(H)
    and all their flock is scattered.(I)

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