-
Bitterly she weeps at night, tears are on her cheeks. Among all her lovers there is no one to comfort her. All her friends have betrayed her; they have become her enemies.
-
The roads to Zion mourn, for no one comes to her appointed festivals. All her gateways are desolate, her priests groan, her young women grieve, and she is in bitter anguish.
-
Her foes have become her masters; her enemies are at ease. The Lord has brought her grief because of her many sins. Her children have gone into exile, captive before the foe.
-
All the splendor has departed from Daughter Zion. Her princes are like deer that find no pasture; in weakness they have fled before the pursuer.
-
“This is why I weep and my eyes overflow with tears. No one is near to comfort me, no one to restore my spirit. My children are destitute because the enemy has prevailed.”
-
“Let all their wickedness come before you; deal with them as you have dealt with me because of all my sins. My groans are many and my heart is faint.”
-
Her gates have sunk into the ground; their bars he has broken and destroyed. Her king and her princes are exiled among the nations, the law is no more, and her prophets no longer find visions from the Lord.
-
My eyes fail from weeping, I am in torment within; my heart is poured out on the ground because my people are destroyed, because children and infants faint in the streets of the city.
-
Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
-
They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.
-
Streams of tears flow from my eyes because my people are destroyed.
-
How the gold has lost its luster, the fine gold become dull! The sacred gems are scattered at every street corner.
-
How the precious children of Zion, once worth their weight in gold, are now considered as pots of clay, the work of a potter’s hands!
-
Those who once ate delicacies are destitute in the streets. Those brought up in royal purple now lie on ash heaps.
-
But now they are blacker than soot; they are not recognized in the streets. Their skin has shriveled on their bones; it has become as dry as a stick.
-
Those killed by the sword are better off than those who die of famine; racked with hunger, they waste away for lack of food from the field.
-
Now they grope through the streets as if they were blind. They are so defiled with blood that no one dares to touch their garments.
-
“Go away! You are unclean!” people cry to them. “Away! Away! Don’t touch us!” When they flee and wander about, people among the nations say, “They can stay here no longer.”
-
The Lord himself has scattered them; he no longer watches over them. The priests are shown no honor, the elders no favor.
-
We have become fatherless, our mothers are widows.
-
Those who pursue us are at our heels; we are weary and find no rest.
-
Our ancestors sinned and are no more, and we bear their punishment.
-
Princes have been hung up by their hands; elders are shown no respect.
-
The elders are gone from the city gate; the young men have stopped their music.
-
Because of this our hearts are faint, because of these things our eyes grow dim
