Yirmeyahu lamented for Yoshiyahu: and all the singing men and singing women spoke of Yoshiyahu in their lamentations to this day; and they made them an ordinance in Yisra'el: and behold, they are written in the lamentations.
He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in their hearts, yet so that man can't find out the work that God has done from the beginning even to the end.
They have gone up to Bayit, and to Divon, to the high places, to weep. Mo'av wails over Nevo 1 and over Medeva. Baldness is on all of their heads. Every beard is cut off.
Let favor be shown to the wicked, yet he will not learn righteousness. In the land of uprightness he will deal wrongfully, and will not see the LORD's majesty.
It shall happen that instead of sweet spices, there shall be rottenness; instead of a belt, a rope; instead of well set hair, baldness; instead of a robe, a girding of sackcloth; and branding instead of beauty.
He sent Elyakim, who was over the household, and Shevna the scribe, and the elders of the Kohanim, covered with sackcloth, to Yeshaiyahu the prophet, the son of Amotz.
Why have we fasted, [say they], and you don't see? [why] have we afflicted our soul, and you take no knowledge? Behold, in the day of your fast you find [your own] pleasure, and exact all your labors.
Both great and small shall die in this land; they shall not be buried, neither shall men lament for them, nor cut themselves, nor make themselves bald for them;
Cut off your hair, [Yerushalayim], and cast it away, and take up a lamentation on the bare heights; for the LORD has rejected and forsaken the generation of his wrath.
Don't rejoice, Yisra'el, to jubilation like the nations; for you were unfaithful to your God. You love the wages of a prostitute at every grain threshing floor.
Put on sackcloth and mourn, you Kohanim! Wail, you ministers of the altar. Come, lie all night in sackcloth, you ministers of my God, for the meal offering and the drink offering are withheld from your God's house.
Let the Kohanim, the ministers of the LORD, weep between the porch and the altar, and let them say, *Spare your people, LORD, and don't give your heritage to reproach, that the nations should rule over them. Why should they say among the peoples, 'Where is their God?'*
I will turn your feasts into mourning, and all your songs into lamentation; and I will make you wear sackcloth on all your bodies, and baldness on every head. I will make it like the mourning for an only son, and the end of it like a bitter day.
Shave your heads, and cut off your hair for the children of your delight. Enlarge your baldness like the rakham; for they have gone into captivity from you!