⁸ And he taketh to him a potsherd to scrape himself with it, and he is sitting in the midst of the ashes.

⁶ Therefore do I loathe `it', And I have repented on dust and ashes.

⁶ seeing the word doth come unto the king of Nineveh, and he riseth from his throne, and removeth his honourable robe from off him, and spreadeth out sackcloth, and sitteth on the ashes,

³⁰ And have sounded for thee with their voice, And cry bitterly, and cause dust to go up on their heads, In ashes they do roll themselves.

²¹ `Wo to thee, Chorazin! wo to thee, Bethsaida! because, if in Tyre and Sidon had been done the mighty works that were done in you, long ago in sackcloth and ashes they had reformed;

²⁰ and there was a certain poor man, by name Lazarus, who was laid at his porch, full of sores,

²¹ and desiring to be filled from the crumbs that are falling from the table of the rich man; yea, also the dogs, coming, were licking his sores.

²⁶ O daughter of My people, Gird on sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes, The mourning of an only one make for thee, A lamentation most bitter, For suddenly come doth the spoiler against us.

³ To appoint to mourners in Zion, To give to them beauty instead of ashes, The oil of joy instead of mourning, A covering of praise for a spirit of weakness, And He is calling to them, `Trees of righteousness, The planting of Jehovah -- to be beautified.'

⁷ For my flanks have been full of drought, And soundness is not in my flesh.

⁵ Stunk -- become corrupt have my wounds, Because of my folly.

¹⁴ Ceased have my neighbours And my familiar friends have forgotten me,

¹⁵ Sojourners of my house and my maids, For a stranger reckon me: An alien I have been in their eyes.

¹⁶ To my servant I have called, And he doth not answer, With my mouth I make supplication to him.

¹⁷ My spirit is strange to my wife, And my favours to the sons of my `mother's' womb.

¹⁹ And Tamar taketh ashes for her head, and the long coat that `is' on her she hath rent, and putteth her hand on her head, and goeth, going on and crying;