I have called upon thy Name, O Yahweh, out of the dungeon below;

You hear my plea:
Do not ignore my cry for relief.

Her Nazarites were purer than snow, whiter than milk; they were redder of bone than corals; their cuttings as lapis lazuli, azure blue.

With their own hands, compassionate women boil their own children they become their food when my beloved people were destroyed.

Elders are no longer at the gate, young men no longer play stringed instruments.