“Daughter of My people, put on sackcloth and roll in ashes. Mourn as for an only son with bitter lamentation.” “For suddenly the destroyer will come on us!”
Then she went and sat herself down opposite, about a bowshot away, for she had said, “I can’t bear to see the child dying!” So she sat down opposite and lifted up her voice and wept.
Now it will come to pass: Instead of sweet spices there will be rottenness; instead of a sash, rags; instead of curled hair, baldness; instead of fine clothing, sackcloth; and branding instead of beauty.
On all the bare hills in the wilderness destroyers have come. For the sword of Adonai is devouring from the one end of the land to the other end of the land. No flesh has shalom.
But if you will not listen, my soul will sob in secret before such pride, and my eyes will weep bitterly and overflow with tears, for Adonai’s flock will be taken captive.
You will say this word to them: “Let my eyes overflow with tears. Night and day, may they never stop. For the virgin daughter of my people is crushed with a great blow, with a sorely infected wound.”
Their widows will increase before Me more than the sand of the seas, I will bring a destroyer at noonday against the mother of a young man. Suddenly I will bring down on her anguish and terrors.
At that time it will be said to this people and to Jerusalem, “A scorching wind from the barren hills in the wilderness blows toward My people, but not to winnow or to sift—
Listen, the sound of the cry of the daughter of my people —a voice from a distant land— “Is Adonai no longer in Zion? Is her King no longer in her?” “Why have they provoked Me with their graven images, with foreign idols?”
If only I had a travelers’ lodging place in the wilderness, then I might leave my people and get away from them! For they are all adulterers, a bunch of traitors.
Over these things I weep. My eyes overflow with water. For far from me is a comforter, who might refresh my soul. My children are desolate, because the enemy has prevailed.”
Bitterly she weeps in the night, her tears are on her cheeks. Among all her lovers, there is no one to comfort her. All her friends have betrayed her. They have become her enemies!
My eyes are filled with tears. My stomach is in torment. My heart is poured out on the ground over the destruction of the daughter of my people— as young children and infants languish in the city squares.
I will turn your festivals into mourning and all your songs into a dirge. I will pull up sackcloth on every waist and baldness on every head. I will make it like the mourning for an only son— its end a bitter day.”
“Then I will pour out on the house of David and the inhabitants of Jerusalem a spirit of grace and supplication, when they will look toward Me whom they pierced. They will mourn for him as one mourns for an only son and grieve bitterly for him, as one grieves for a firstborn.
Just as He came near the town gate, behold, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother, a widow. A considerable crowd from the town was with her.