The ways of 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.

In her skirts were her unclean ways; she gave no thought to her end; and her fall has been a wonder; she has no comforter: see her sorrow, O Lord; for the attacker is lifted up.

Is it nothing to you, all ye passing by the way? Look attentively, and see, If there is any pain like my pain, That He is rolling to me? Whom Jehovah hath afflicted In the day of the fierceness of His anger.

A watch is kept on my sins; they are joined together by his hand, they have come on to my neck; he has made my strength give way: the Lord has given me up into the hands of those against whom I have no power.

Clapped hands at thee have all passing by the way, They have hissed -- and they shake the head At the daughter of Jerusalem: 'Is this the city of which they said: The perfection of beauty, a joy to all the land?'

He hath inclosed my ways with hewn stone, he hath made my paths crooked.

He hath turned aside my ways, and pulled me in pieces: he hath made me desolate.

Let us search and try our ways, and turn again to the LORD.