“The yoke of my transgressions is bound;
By His hand they are knit together.
They have come upon my neck;
He has made my strength fail.
The Lord has given me into the hands
Of those against whom I am not able to stand.

You called as in the day of an appointed feast
My terrors on every side;
And there was no one who escaped or survived
In the day of the Lord’s anger.
Those whom I bore and reared,
My enemy annihilated them.

In dark places He has made me dwell,
Like those who have long been dead.

The Lord is good to those who wait for Him,
To the person who seeks Him.

Those who ate delicacies
Are desolate in the streets;
Those reared in purple
Embrace ash pits.

Better are those slain with the sword
Than those slain with hunger;
For they pine away, being stricken
For lack of the fruits of the field.