Rotherham(i)
17 Rouse thee––rouse, thee, stand up, O Jerusalem, Who hast drunk, at the hand of Yahweh, his cup of indignation: The goblet–cup of confusion, hast thou drunk––hast thou drained.
18 There is none, to guide her, Among all the sons she hath borne,––There is none, to grasp her hand, Among all the sons she hath brought up.
19 Twain, are the things befalling thee, Who will lament for thee? Wasting and destruction, and, famine and sword, By whom shall I comfort thee?
20 Thy sons, have fainted, They lie at the head of all the streets, like a gazelle in a net,––Who, indeed, are full of, The indignation of Yahweh, The rebuke of thy God.
21 Therefore, hear, I pray thee, this, thou humbled one,––And drunken, but not with wine:––
22 Thus, saith Thy Lord Yahweh, Even thy God who pleadeth the cause of his people:––Lo! I have taken, out of thy hand, the cup of confusion,––As for the goblet–cup of mine indignation, Thou shalt not again, drink it, any more;
23 But I will put it into the hand of thy tormentors, Who said to thy soul, Bow down that we may pass over,––And so thou didst place, as the ground, thy back, Yea, as the street, to such as were passing along.