The ways to Zion, are mourning, because none come to her appointed feasts, All her gates, are desolate, her priests, are sighing, - her virgins, are grieved, and, she, it is bitter for her.

Her adversaries have become chief, her foes, are at ease, for, Yahweh, hath grieved her, because of the multitude of her transgressions, - Her children, have gone into captivity, before the adversary.

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.

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,

Let all their wickedness, come in, before thee, and deal thou severely with them, according as thou hast dealt severely with me, for all my transgressions; for many are my sighs, and, my heart, is sick.

Her gates, have sunk in the earth, He hath destroyed and broken in pieces, her bars, - Her king and her princes, are among the nations, There is no instruction, Even her prophets, have found no vision, from Yahweh.

Seated on the ground, in silence, are the elders of the daughter of Zion, They have lifted up dust on their head, have girded themselves with sackcloth, - Bowed down to the ground is the head, of the virgins of Jerusalem.

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.

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!

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.

He hath trodden his bow, and set me up, as a mark for the arrow.

The lovingkindnesses of Yahweh, verily they are not exhausted, Verily! not at an end, are his compassions:

Let us search out our ways, and examine them well, and let us return unto Yahweh;

Let us lift up our heart, to the opened palms, to the Mighty One in the heavens;

With their mouth, opened wide over us, stand all our foes.

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;

How is dimmed the gold! changed the most fine gold! Poured out are the stones of the sanctuary, at the top of all the streets.

The precious sons of Zion, they who were weighed against pure gold, How are they accounted as earthen pitchers, the work of the hands of the potter!

They who used to eat delicacies, are deserted in the streets, - They who used to be carried on crimson, have embraced heaps of refuse.

Purer were her Nazirites than snow, whiter were they than milk, - more ruddy, in body, than coral, A sapphire, was their beauty of form.

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.

Better are the slain of the sword, than the slain of the famine, - for, these, pine away, stricken through, wanting the produce of the field.

Neither the kings of the earth, nor any of the inhabitants of the world, believed, that an adversary or an enemy, should enter, the gates of Jerusalem!

Silly shall our eyes fail, for our help that is vain: In our watchtower, have we watched - for a nation that will not save.

They have laid snares for our steps, that we cannot walk in our own broadways: Drawn near hath our end, Fulfilled are our days, yea arrived hath our end.

Swifter are our pursuers, than the eagles of the heavens, - Over the mountains, have they come hotly after us, In the wilderness, have they lain in wait for us.

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.

Remember, O Yahweh, what hath befallen us, Look around, and see our reproach:

Our inheritance, turned over to foreigners, our houses, to aliens.

Orphans, have we become, and fatherless, our mothers, are widows indeed.

Our water - for silver, have we drunk, our wood - for a price, cometh in.

Upon our necks, are our pursuers, We labour, and there is allowed us no rest.

To Egypt, have we stretched out our hand, to Assyria, to be satisfied with bread.

Our fathers, sinned, and are not, and, we, their iniquities, have borne.

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

Our skin, as with a furnace, is scorched, because of the hot winds of famine.

Women - in Zion, were ravished, virgins, in the cities of Judah!

Ceased hath the joy of our hearts, Changed to mourning, our dance.

Fallen is the crown of our head. Surely woe to us, for we have sinned.

For this cause, faint is our heart, For these things, dimmed are our eyes:

Bring us back, O Yahweh, unto thyself, and we will come back! Renew our days, as of old;