Distress of the Siege Described

How (A)dark the gold has become,
How the pure gold has changed!
The sacred stones are spilled out
At the [a]corner of every street.
The precious sons of Zion,
Weighed against pure gold,
How they are regarded as (B)earthenware jars,
The work of a potter’s hands!
Even (C)jackals offer the breast,
They nurse their young;
But the daughter of my people has proved herself (D)cruel,
Like (E)ostriches in the wilderness.

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Footnotes

  1. Lamentations 4:1 Lit head

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