All her people, are sighing, seeking bread, They have given their precious things for food, to bring back life, - Behold, O Yahweh, and discern, that I have become worthless.

For these things, am, I, weeping, Mine eye, mine eye, is running down with waters, for, far from me, is any who could comfort, could bring back my life, - My sons are amazed, for strong is the foe.

I called to my lovers, they, deceived me, My priests and mine elders, in the city, have breathed their last, - for they sought them food, that they might bring back their life.

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.

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!

They have cut off, in the dungeon, my life, and have cast a stone upon me;

Thou hast pleaded, O My Lord, the pleas of my soul, hast redeemed my life;

The fragrance of our nostrils, The Anointed of Yahweh, hath been captured in their pits, - of whom we had said - In his shade, shall we live among the nations.

At the risk of our life, do we bring in our bread, because of the sword of the desert.