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.

Rivulets of water go down my eye, For the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Purer were her Nazarites than snow, Whiter than milk, ruddier of body than rubies, Of sapphire their form.

Our water for money we have drunk, Our wood for a price doth come.