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11 Tremble, you complacent women!
Be worried, you carefree girls!
Strip yourselves naked,
and put sackcloth around your waist.
12 Beat your breasts in mourning
    for the pleasant fields,
    for the fruitful vines,
13 because my people’s land will yield only thorns and briers.
Weep for all the houses where you partied,
    in the city where you celebrated.

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