The roads to Zion do mourn, because none come to the solemn feasts: all her gates are desolate: her priests sigh, her virgins are afflicted, and she is in bitterness.

The yoke of my transgressions is bound by his hand: they are woven together, and come up upon my neck: he has made my strength to fall, the Lord has delivered me into their hands, from whom I am not able to rise up.

Let all their wickedness come before you; and do unto them, as you have done unto me for all my transgressions: for my sighs are many, and my heart is faint.

Who is he that says, and it comes to pass, when the Lord commands it not?

Fear and a snare has come upon us, desolation and destruction.

They hunt our steps, so that we cannot go in our streets: our end is near, our days are fulfilled; for our end has come.

Remember, O LORD, what is come upon us: consider, and behold our reproach.