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Personal anguish and the charge of folly
My anguish, my anguish! I am pained at my very heart; my heart is disquieted in me; I can’t hold my peace; because you have heard, O my soul, the sound of the trumpet, the alarm of war.
Destruction on destruction is cried; for the whole land is laid waste: suddenly are my tents destroyed, [and] my curtains in a moment.
How long shall I see the standard, and hear the sound of the trumpet?
For my people are foolish, they know don’t me; they are foolish children, and they have no understanding; they are wise to do evil, but to do good they have no knowledge.