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.

My eyes fail with tears, my heart is troubled, my liver is poured upon the earth, because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, because the young sons and the sucklings faint in the streets of the city.

Arise, cry out in the night, at the beginning of the watches. Pour out thy heart like water before the face of LORD. Lift up thy hands toward him for the life of thy young sons, who faint for hunger at the head of every street.

See, O LORD, and behold to whom thou have done thus! Shall the women eat their fruit, the sons who are dandled in the hands? Shall the priest and the prophet be slain in the sanctuary of LORD?

He hath caused to enter my reins, the sons of his quiver;

I have become the laughingstock of all people, their mocking song all day long.

For He does not afflict willingly
Or grieve the sons of men.

To oppress a son of earth in his cause, My Lord, hath made no provision.

Why should a living son of earth complain, Let a man complain because of his sins?

Take note of them when they are seated, and when they get up; I am their song.

(Bet) The precious sons of Zion were worth their weight in gold -- Alas! -- but now they are treated like broken clay pots, made by a potter.

The tongue of the sucking child clings to the roof of his mouth for thirst. The young sons ask bread, and no man breaks it to them.

The young men bore the mill, and the sons stumbled under the wood.

The aged from the gate have ceased, Young men from their song.