For these I am weeping, My eye, my eye, is running down with waters, For, far from me hath been a comforter, Refreshing my soul, My sons have been desolate, For mighty hath been an enemy.

He hath trodden His bow as an enemy, Stood hath His right hand as an adversary, And He slayeth all the desirable ones of the eye, In the tent of the daughter of Zion, He hath poured out as fire His fury.

Cried hath their heart unto the Lord; O wall of the daughter of Zion, Cause to go down as a stream tears daily and nightly, Give not rest to thyself, Let not the daughter of thine eye stand still.

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

Mine eye is poured out, And doth not cease without intermission,

My eye affecteth my soul, Because of all the daughters of my city.