YLT(i)
19 Woe to me for my breaking, Grievious hath been my smiting, And I said, Only, this is my sickness, and I bear it.
20 My tent hath been spoiled, And all my cords have been broken, My sons have gone out from me, and they are not, There is none stretching out any more my tent, And raising up my curtains.
21 For the shepherds have become brutish, And Jehovah they have not sought, Therefore they have not acted wisely, And all their flock is scattered.
22 A voice of a report, lo, it hath come, Even a great shaking from the north country, To make the cities of Judah a desolation, A habitation of dragons.