²⁵ In the street the sword shall bereave,
    and in the chambers terror
for young man and woman alike,
    nursing child and old gray head.^(A)

¹¹ Therefore my heart moans like a harp for Moab
    and my very soul for Kir-heres.^(A)

¹⁹ My anguish, my anguish! I writhe in pain!
    Oh, the walls of my heart!
My heart is beating wildly;
    I cannot keep silent,
for I^[a] hear the sound of the trumpet,
    the alarm of war.^(A)

¹⁵ The sword is outside; pestilence and famine are inside;
    those in the field die by the sword;
    those in the city—famine and pestilence devour them.^(A)