Lord, I have heard the report about you; Lord, I stand in awe of your deeds. Revive your work in these years; make it known in these years. In your wrath remember mercy!
All who pass by scornfully clap their hands at you. They hiss and shake their heads at Daughter Jerusalem: Is this the city that was called the perfection of beauty, the joy of the whole earth?
You know, Lord; remember me and take note of me. Avenge me against my persecutors. In your patience, don’t take me away. Know that I suffer disgrace for your honour.
Lord, look and consider to whom you have done this. Should women eat their own children, the infants they have nurtured? Should priests and prophets be killed in the Lord’s sanctuary?
Lord, see how I am in distress. I am churning within; my heart is broken, for I have been very rebellious. Outside, the sword takes the children; inside, there is death.
They said to me, ‘The remnant in the province, who survived the exile, are in great trouble and disgrace. Jerusalem’s wall has been broken down, and its gates have been burned.’
Her uncleanness stains her skirts. She never considered her end. Her downfall was astonishing; there was no one to comfort her. Lord, look on my affliction, for the enemy boasts.
All her people groan while they search for bread. They have traded their precious belongings for food in order to stay alive. Lord, look and see how I have become despised.