And He hath broken it As the breaking of the potters' bottle, Beaten down -- He doth not spare, Nor is there found, in its beating down, A potsherd to take fire from the burning, And to draw out waters from a ditch.
and hast said unto them: Thus said Jehovah of Hosts, Thus do I break this people and this city, as one breaketh the potter's vessel, that is not able to be repaired again, and in Tophet they bury -- without place to bury;
A grief -- a despised broken thing -- is this man Coniah? A vessel in which there is no pleasure? Wherefore have they been cast up and down, He and his seed, Yea, they were cast on to a land that they knew not?
Lain on the earth `in' out-places have young and old, My virgins and my young men have fallen by the sword, Thou hast slain in a day of Thine anger, Thou hast slaughtered -- Thou hast not pitied.
For I have trodden for Me Judah, A bow I have filled `with' Ephraim, And I have stirred up thy sons, O Zion, Against thy sons, O Javan, And I have set thee as the sword of a hero.