Like a swallow or a crane, I whisper, I moan like a dove. My eyes are weary, looking upward. Adonai, I am oppressed, be my security!
“Make then a pledge for me with You. Who else would strike hands with me?
I have become a brother to jackals, and a companion to ostriches.
My eyes are worn out longing for Your promise, saying, “When will You comfort me?”
Answer me speedily, Adonai— my spirit fails. Hide not Your face from me, lest I become like those who go down into the Pit.
Give ear, O God, to my prayer and do not ignore my plea for help.
I have sunk in deep mud, and there is no footing, I have come into deep waters, and a flood sweeps over me.
All of us growl like bears or moan like doves. We hope for justice, but there is none; for salvation, but it is far from us.
Even now our eyes waste away looking in vain for our help. From our towers we watched for a nation that could not save us.
Those survivors who escape will head for the mountains like doves of the valleys, all of them moaning, each one over his iniquity.
The river gates will be opened, and the palace will melt away.
What was erected will be exiled and carried away. Her handmaids are lamenting like the sound of doves, beating their breasts.
How much more then has Yeshua become the guarantee of a better covenant.