The enemy has spread out his hand upon all her desirable things; for she has seen the nations enter her holy place, whom You commanded that they should not enter into Your congregation.

The yoke of my transgressions is bound by His hand; they intertwine; they rise on my neck. He has made my strength to falter; Jehovah has delivered me into their hands. I am not able to rise up.

Behold, O Jehovah, for I am in trouble; my inward parts ferment; my heart is turned within me, for I have grievously rebelled. On the outside the sword bereaves; in the house it is as death.

Behold, O Jehovah, and consider to whom You have done this. Shall the women eat their fruit, children of tender care? Shall the priest and the prophet be killed in the holy place of the Lord?

You have called as in a solemn day my terrors all around, and there was not an escaped one or a survivor in the day of Jehovah's anger. Those whom I have nursed and multiplied, my enemy has consumed.

Waters flowed over my head; then I said, I am cut off.

Behold their sitting down and their rising up; I am their song.

The breath of our nostrils, the anointed of Jehovah, was taken in their pits; of whom we said, In His shadow we shall live among the nations.