Arise, cry aloud in the night, At the beginning of the watches. Pour out as water thy heart, Over against the face of the Lord, Lift up unto Him thy hands, for the soul of thine infants, Who are feeble with hunger at the head of all out-places.

Lain on the earth in out-places have young and old, My virgins and my young men have fallen by the sword, Thou hast slain in a day of Thine anger, Thou hast slaughtered -- Thou hast not pitied.

How is the gold become dim, Changed the best -- the pure gold? Poured out are stones of the sanctuary At the head of all out-places.

Those eating of dainties have been desolate in out-places, Those supported on scarlet have embraced dunghills.

Darker than blackness hath been their visage, They have not been known in out-places, Cleaved hath their skin unto their bone, It hath withered -- it hath been as wood.

They have wandered naked in out-places, They have been polluted with blood, Without any being able to touch their clothing,

Consumed by tears have been my eyes, Troubled have been my bowels, Poured out to the earth hath been my liver, For the breach of the daughter of my people; In infant and suckling being feeble, In the broad places of the city,

To their mothers they say, 'Where are corn and wine?' In their becoming feeble as a pierced one In the broad places of the city, In their soul pouring itself out into the bosom of their mothers.