Thus hath gone forth from the daughter of Zion, all that adorned her, - Her princes have become like harts that have found no pasture, and have gone strengthless before the pursuer.

Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by? Look around and see, whether there is pain like my pain, which is severely dealt out to me, - in that Yahweh, hath caused grief, in the day of the glow of his anger?

See, O Yahweh, that I am in distress, Mine inward parts, are in ferment, My heart is turned within me, for I have obstinately rebelled, - Without, bereaveth the sword, Within, is like death,

They have heard - that, sighing am, I, and am saying - There is none to comfort me, All my foes, - having heard of my calamity - have rejoiced, because, thou, hast done it, - thou hast brought in the day thou didst proclaim, So let them become like me.

He hath trodden his bow like a foe, his right hand erect as an adversary, and hath slain all them who delighted the eye, - In the home of the daughter of Zion, hath he poured out, as fire, his indignation.

My Lord hath become like a foe, hath swallowed up Israel, hath swallowed up all her castles, ruined his strongholds, - and hath caused to abound, in the daughter of Judah, lamentation and mourning.

Thus hath he destroyed, like a garden, his pavilion, hath laid waste his place of assembly, - Yahweh, hath caused to be forgotten, in Zion, the appointed assembly and the sabbath, and hath spurned, in the indignation of his anger, the king and the priest.

To their mothers, they keep saying, Where are corn and wine? Swooning off, like one thrust through, in the broadways of the city, pouring out their life into the bosom of their mothers.

How shall I solemnly admonish thee? What shall I liken to thee, thou daughter of Jerusalem? What shall I compare with thee, that I may comfort thee, thou virgin, daughter of Zion? for, great as the sea, is thy grievous injury, Who can heal thee?

Arise, cry out in the night, At the beginning of the watches, pour out, like waters, thy heart, right before the face of My Lord, - Lift up, above thee, the palms of thy hands, for the life of thy children, who are swooning for hunger, at the top of all the streets!

Wilt thou proclaim, like the day of an appointed meeting - My terrors round about? when there was not - in the day of the anger of Yahweh - fugitive or survivor, - Those whom I dandled and reared, my foe hath destroyed.

In dark places, hath he made me sit, like the dead of age-past times.

Even wild dogs, draw out the breast, give suck to their whelps - The daughter of my people, hath become cruel, like the ostriches in the desert.

Darker than a coal, is their visage, They are not known in the streets - Their skin shrivelleth on their bones, is withered, become like a stick.