And thou, O tower of Eder, Fort of the daughter of Zion, unto thee it cometh, Yea, come in hath the former rule, The kingdom to the daughter of Jerusalem.

Is Jehovah pleased with thousands of rams? With myriads of streams of oil? Do I give my first-born for my transgression? The fruit of my body for the sin of my soul?

My woe is to me, for I have been As gatherings of summer-fruit, As gleanings of harvest, There is no cluster to eat, The first-ripe fruit desired hath my soul.

And the land hath been for a desolation, Because of its inhabitants, Because of the fruit of their doings.