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From the foot to the head
    there is no soundness.
Wounds, bruises and raw sores:
    not pressed, nor bandaged,
    nor softened with oil.
Your land is desolate;
your cities are burned with fire;
your fields,
    strangers devour it in your presence—
    a desolation,
    overthrown by strangers.
So the Daughter of Zion is left
    as a sukkah in a vineyard,
as a lodge in a garden of cucumbers,
    as a besieged city.

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