The Degradation of Zion

How the gold has become dim!
How changed the fine gold!
The stones of the sanctuary are [a]scattered
At the head of every street.

The precious sons of Zion,
[b]Valuable as fine gold,
How they are [c]regarded (A)as clay pots,
The work of the hands of the potter!

Even the jackals present their breasts
To nurse their young;
But the daughter of my people is cruel,
(B)Like ostriches in the wilderness.

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Footnotes

  1. Lamentations 4:1 Lit. poured out
  2. Lamentations 4:2 Lit. Weighed against
  3. Lamentations 4:2 reckoned

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