My eyes are spent with tears, my stomach churns; My bile is poured out on the ground at the brokenness of the daughter of my people, As children and infants collapse in the streets of the town.
Daughter of my people, dress in sackcloth, roll in the ashes. Mourn as for an only child with bitter wailing: “How suddenly the destroyer comes upon us!”
Speak to them this word: Let my eyes stream with tears night and day, without rest, Over the great destruction which overwhelms the virgin daughter of my people, over her incurable wound.
Therefore I weep with Jazer for the vines of Sibmah; I drench you with my tears, Heshbon and Elealeh; For on your summer fruits and harvests the battle cry has fallen.
My body! my body! how I writhe! The walls of my heart! My heart beats wildly, I cannot be still; For I myself have heard the blast of the horn, the battle cry.
Why should I pardon you? Your children have forsaken me, they swear by gods that are no gods. I fed them, but they commit adultery; to the prostitute’s house they throng.
There are those in you who take bribes to shed blood. You exact interest and usury; you extort profit from your neighbor by violence. But me you have forgotten—oracle of the Lord God.