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.

Their heart, hath made outcry, unto My Lord, - O wall of the daughter of Zion - Let tears run down as a torrent day and night, Do not give thyself relief, Let not the weeping of thine eye cease!

My ways, hath he turned aside, and hath torn me in pieces, hath made me desolate;

She, weepeth sore, in the night, and, her tear, is on her cheek, She hath none to comfort her, of all her lovers, - All her friends, have betrayed her, have become her foes.