The Lord says, “Babylon, come down from your throne, and sit in the dust on the ground. You were once like a virgin, a city unconquered, but you are soft and delicate no longer! You are now a slave!
The Lord commanded me to tell the people about my sorrow and to say: “May my eyes flow with tears day and night, may I never stop weeping, for my people are deeply wounded and are badly hurt.
O Jerusalem, beloved Jerusalem, what can I say? How can I comfort you? No one has ever suffered like this. Your disaster is boundless as the ocean; there is no possible hope.
People passing by the city look at you in scorn. They shake their heads and laugh at Jerusalem's ruins: “Is this that lovely city? Is this the pride of the world?”
And you, Jerusalem, where God, like a shepherd from his lookout tower, watches over his people, will once again be the capital of the kingdom that was yours.
Rejoice, rejoice, people of Zion! Shout for joy, you people of Jerusalem! Look, your king is coming to you! He comes triumphant and victorious, but humble and riding on a donkey— on a colt, the foal of a donkey.