I hear a cry like a woman having a baby, distress like a woman having her first child. It is the sound of Jerusalem gasping for breath. She lifts her hands in prayer and says, “Oh! I am about to faint before my murderers!”
Look how the Lord in his anger has brought Jerusalem to shame. He has thrown down the greatness of Israel from the sky to the earth; he did not remember the Temple, his footstool, on the day of his anger.
What can I say about you, Jerusalem? What can I compare you to? What can I say you are like? How can I comfort you, Jerusalem? Your ruin is as deep as the sea. No one can heal you.
The most gentle and kind woman among you, so gentle and kind she would hardly even walk on the ground, will be cruel to her husband whom she loves and to her son and daughter.