To the Chief Musician. Do not destroy. A secret treasure of David, when he fled from Saul in the cave. Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me; for my soul trusts in You; yea, in the shadow of Your wings I will make my hiding-place, until these great troubles pass by.
O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the one killing the prophets and stoning those who are sent to her, how often would I have gathered your children together, even as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you would not!
Jerusalem! Jerusalem! the one killing the prophets, and stoning those having been sent to her; how often I desired to gather your children in the way a hen gathers her brood under the wings, and you did not desire it.