O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, that kills the prophets, and stones those who are sent to her. How often I wanted to gather thy children together as a hen does her brood under her wings, and ye would not.
Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me, for my soul takes refuge in thee. Yea, in the shadow of thy wings I will take refuge until calamities be passed by.
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets, and stones those who have been sent to her. How often I wanted to gathered thy children together the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and ye would not.