And my lyre has turned to mourning, and my flute to the sound of weeping.
I go in mourning with no sun; I stood up and I cried out in the congregation.
a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
My heart wanders, terror overwhelms me; He has turned the twilight of my pleasure into trembling.
And in that day Jehovah of Hosts called to weeping and mourning, and to baldness, and to girding with sackcloth.
The joy of our heart has ceased; our dance has turned into mourning.
Then the king went to his palace and spent the night fasting. And diversions were not brought before him; and his sleep fled from him.
And I will turn your feast into mourning, and all your songs into weeping; and I will bring up sackcloth on all loins, and baldness on every head. And I will make it like the mourning of an only son, and the end of it like a bitter day.