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Even the jackals offer their breast.
    They nurse their young ones.
But the daughter of my people has become cruel,
    like the ostriches in the wilderness.

The tongue of the nursing child clings to the roof of his mouth for thirst.
    The young children ask bread,
    and no one breaks it for them.

Those who ate delicacies are desolate in the streets.
    Those who were brought up in purple embrace dunghills.

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