How hath she sat alone, The city abounding with people! She hath been as a widow, The mighty among nations! Princes among provinces, She hath become tributary!

Trodden down all my mighty ones hath the Lord in my midst, He proclaimed against me an appointed time, To destroy my young men, A wine-press hath the Lord trodden, To the virgin daughter of Judah.

For these I am weeping, My eye, my eye, is running down with waters, For, far from me hath been a comforter, Refreshing my soul, My sons have been desolate, For mighty hath been an enemy.