6 From the sole of the foot — unto the head, There is no soundness in it, Wound, and bruise, and fresh smiting! They have not been closed nor bound, Nor have they softened with ointment.

7 Your land [is] a desolation, your cities burnt with fire, Your ground, before you strangers are consuming it, And a desolation as overthrown by strangers!

8 And left hath been the daughter of Zion, As a booth in a vineyard, As a lodge in a place of cucumbers — as a city besieged.