The ways of Zion do mourn, because none come to the solemn assembly; all her gates are desolate, her priests do sigh: her virgins are afflicted, and she herself is in bitterness.

Her filthiness was in her skirts; she didn't remember her latter end; therefore is she come down wonderfully; she has no comforter: see, Yahweh, my affliction; for the enemy has magnified himself.

The yoke of my transgressions is bound by his hand; They are knit together, they are come up on my neck; he has made my strength to fail: The Lord has delivered me into their hands, against whom I am not able to stand.

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

Who is he who says, and it comes to pass, when the Lord doesn't command it?

Doesn't evil and good come out of the mouth of the Most High?

Fear and the pit are come on us, devastation and destruction.

They hunt our steps, so that we can't go in our streets: Our end is near, our days are fulfilled; for our end is come.

Remember, Yahweh, what has come on us: Look, and see our reproach.