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.

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,

Blinded with tears are mine eyes, In ferment is my body, Poured out to the earth is my grief, for the sore hurt of the daughter of my people, - when child and suckling are swooning, in the broadways of the city.

And I said, Vanished is mine endurance, even mine expectation, from Yahweh.

With streams of water, mine eye runneth down, over the grievous injury of the daughter of my people.

Mine eye, poureth itself out and ceaseth not, without relief;

Mine eye dealeth severely with my soul, because of all the daughters of my city.

They, have laid snares, for me as a bird, who are mine enemies without cause:

My voice, thou hast heard, - do not close thine ear to my respite, to mine outcry;

The lips of mine assailants, and their mutterings, are against me, all the day;