And Mordecai hath known all that hath been done, and Mordecai rendeth his garments, and putteth on sackcloth and ashes, and goeth forth into the midst of the city and crieth — a cry loud and bitter,
And if ye do not hear it, In secret places doth my soul weep, because of pride, Yea, it weepeth sore, And the tear cometh down mine eyes, For the flock of Jehovah hath been taken captive.
Thus said Jehovah, A voice in Ramah is heard, wailing, weeping most bitter, Rachel is weeping for her sons, She hath refused to be comforted for her sons, because they are not.
My bowels, my bowels! I am pained [at] the walls of my heart, Make a noise for me doth My heart, I am not silent, For the voice of a trumpet I have heard, O my soul — a shout of battle!
O daughter of My people, Gird on sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes, The mourning of an only one make for thee, A lamentation most bitter, For suddenly come doth the spoiler against us.
Consumed by tears have been my eyes, Troubled have been my bowels, Poured out to the earth hath been my liver, For the breach of the daughter of my people; In infant and suckling being feeble, In the broad places of the city,
‘A voice in Ramah was heard — lamentation and weeping and much mourning — Rachel weeping [for] her children, and she would not be comforted because they are not.’
and Peter remembered the saying of Jesus, he having said to him — ‘Before cockcrowing, thrice thou wilt deny me;’ and having gone without, he did weep bitterly.