¹¹ All her people groan
    as they search for bread;
they trade their treasures for food
    to revive their lives.
Look, O Lord, and see
    how worthless I have become.^(A)

¹¹ My eyes are spent with weeping;
    my stomach churns;
my bile is poured out on the ground
    because of the destruction of my people,^[a]
because infants and babes faint
    in the streets of the city.^(A)

¹² They cry to their mothers,
    “Where is bread and wine?”
as they faint like the wounded
    in the streets of the city,
as their life is poured out
    on their mothers’ bosoms.^(B)

² The precious children of Zion,
    worth their weight in fine gold—
how they are reckoned as earthen pots,
    the work of a potter’s hands!^(A)

³ Even the jackals offer the breast
    and nurse their young,
but my people has become cruel,
    like the ostriches in the wilderness.^(B)

⁴ The tongue of the infant sticks
    to the roof of its mouth for thirst;
the children beg for food,
    but there is nothing for them.^(C)