He has bent his bow like an enemy. He has stood with his right hand as an adversary, and has slain all who were pleasant to the eye. He has poured out his wrath like fire in the tent of the daughter of Zion.

Those who fed luxuriously are desolate in the streets. Those who were brought up in scarlet embrace dunghills.

For the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater than the sin of Sodom, that was overthrown as in a moment, and no hands were laid upon her.

Her ranking men were purer than snow. They were whiter than milk. They were more ruddy in body than rubies. Their polishing was as of sapphire.

The hands of the pitiful women have boiled their own children. They were their food in the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Our pursuers were swifter than the eagles of the heavens. They chased us upon the mountains. They laid wait for us in the wilderness.

Rulers were hanged up by their hand. The faces of elders were not honored.