Woe to me because of my injury! My wound is incurable! Yet I said to myself, “This is my sickness, and I must endure it.”
My tent is destroyed; all its ropes are snapped. My children are gone from me and are no more; no one is left now to pitch my tent or to set up my shelter.
The shepherds are senseless and do not inquire of the LORD; so they do not prosper and all their flock is scattered.
Listen! The report is coming— a great commotion from the land of the north! It will make the towns of Judah desolate, a haunt of jackals.
LORD, I know that people’s lives are not their own; it is not for them to direct their steps.
Discipline me, LORD, but only in due measure— not in your anger, or you will reduce me to nothing.
Pour out your wrath on the nations that do not acknowledge you, on the peoples who do not call on your name. For they have devoured Jacob; they have devoured him completely and destroyed his homeland.