I will adore before your holy temple, and I will confess your name: it is above your mercy and your truth. For you have magnified your holy name above all.
And I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your hymns into lamentation. And I will put sackcloth over every one of your backs, and baldness on every head. And I will begin it like the mourning for an only-begotten son, and complete it like a bitter day.
And the sound of singers, and musicians, and flute and trumpet players shall not be heard in you again. And every artisan of every art shall not be found in you again. And the sound of the mill shall not be heard in you again.