A cry is heard from their houses, For Thou bringest against them suddenly a troop, For they dug a pit to capture me, And snares they have hidden for my feet.
Is evil recompensed instead of good, That they have dug a pit for my soul? Remember my standing before Thee to speak good of them, To turn back Thy wrath from them.
For I have heard the evil report of many, Fear `is' round about: `Declare, and we declare it,' All mine allies are watching `for' my halting, `Perhaps he is enticed, and we prevail over him, And we take our vengeance out of him.'
For a voice as of a sick woman I have heard, Distress, as of one bringing forth a first-born, The voice of the daughter of Zion, She bewaileth herself, she spreadeth out her hands, `Wo to me now, for weary is my soul of slayers!'
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.