Howl, O gate; cry, O city; you, all Philistia, are dissolved: for there shall come from the north a smoke, and none shall be alone in his appointed times.
Because the palaces shall be forsaken; the multitude of the city shall be left; the forts and towers shall be for dens for ever, a joy for wild donkeys, a pasture for flocks;
How the city sits solitary that was full of people! how she has become like a widow! She who was great among the nations, and princess among the provinces, how she has become one who pays tribute!
The ways of Zion mourn, because none come to the solemn feasts: all her gates are desolate: her priests sigh, her virgins are afflicted, and she is in bitterness.
Her gates are sunk into the ground; he has destroyed and broken her bars: her king and her princes are among the Gentiles: the law is no more; her prophets also find no vision from the LORD.