19 Woe is me for my hurt! my wound is grievous: but I said, Truly this [is] a grief, and I must bear it.
19
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.”
20 My tabernacle is laid waste, and all my cords are broken: my children are gone from me, and they [are] not: [there is] none to stretch forth my tent any more, and to set up my curtains.
20
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.