The Lord has purposed to destroy The wall of the daughter of Zion. He has stretched out a line; He has not withdrawn His hand from destroying; Therefore He has caused the rampart and wall to lament; They languished together.

Her gates have sunk into the ground; He has destroyed and broken her bars. Her king and her princes are among the nations; The Law is no more, And her prophets find no vision from the Lord.

The elders of the daughter of Zion Sit on the ground and keep silence; They throw dust on their heads And gird themselves with sackcloth. The virgins of Jerusalem Bow their heads to the ground.

My eyes fail with tears, My heart is troubled; My bile is poured on the ground Because of the destruction of the daughter of my people, Because the children and the infants Faint in the streets of the city.

They say to their mothers, “Where is grain and wine?” As they swoon like the wounded In the streets of the city, As their life is poured out In their mothers’ bosom.

How shall I console you? To what shall I liken you, O daughter of Jerusalem? What shall I compare with you, that I may comfort you, O virgin daughter of Zion? For your ruin is spread wide as the sea; Who can heal you?

Your prophets have seen for you False and deceptive visions; They have not uncovered your iniquity, To bring back your captives, But have envisioned for you false prophecies and delusions.

All who pass by clap their hands at you; They hiss and shake their heads At the daughter of Jerusalem: “Is this the city that is called ‘The perfection of beauty, The joy of the whole earth’?”

All your enemies have opened their mouth against you; They hiss and gnash their teeth. They say, “We have swallowed her up! Surely this is the day we have waited for; We have found it, we have seen it!”

“Arise, cry out in the night, At the beginning of the watches; Pour out your heart like water before the face of the Lord. Lift your hands toward Him For the life of your young children, Who faint from hunger at the head of every street.”

“See, O Lord, and consider! To whom have You done this? Should the women eat their offspring, The children they have cuddled? Should the priest and prophet be slain In the sanctuary of the Lord?

“Young and old lie On the ground in the streets; My virgins and my young men Have fallen by the sword; You have slain them in the day of Your anger, You have slaughtered and not pitied.

“You have invited as to a feast day The terrors that surround me. In the day of the Lord’s anger There was no refugee or survivor. Those whom I have borne and brought up My enemies have destroyed.”

The Prophet’s Anguish and Hope

I am the man who has seen affliction by the rod of His wrath.

Surely He has turned His hand against me Time and time again throughout the day.

He has aged my flesh and my skin, And broken my bones.

He has besieged me And surrounded me with bitterness and woe.

He has set me in dark places Like the dead of long ago.

He has hedged me in so that I cannot get out; He has made my chain heavy.

Even when I cry and shout, He shuts out my prayer.

He has blocked my ways with hewn stone; He has made my paths crooked.

He has bent His bow And set me up as a target for the arrow.

I have become the ridicule of all my people— Their taunting song all the day.

You have moved my soul far from peace; I have forgotten prosperity.

And I said, “My strength and my hope Have perished from the Lord.”