The Tenth of Tevet

On the tenth, the king of Babylon laid siege on the city, and beleaguered it. The chief of the army arrived, and I was yielded to be trampled, was tormented in fetters, and from month to month my harp turned to grief. Once like the first figs of a new tree, they were the very first to be destroyed. They spoke the names of others, and sin closed their destiny. They did not recognize God's face and were swept off by the flood — agony like that of a first childbirth, soars up as high as Heaven. God brought us a day of evil and siege, ordered enemies about me to harvest my last fruits. The day my heart was quelled, no strength to resist, and He said to the prophet, “Preach this to the rebellious house.” He took the cloak of authority from the judges at the gate. His rage burned like fire and He raised the crown away, and He cast down the splendor of the Temple, Forest of Lebanon, and rushing wind and storm make my flesh bristle and shiver. Once you were called most beautiful; now you are darkened, for you have stumbled over iniquity and your heart has turned back. You have been attacked from behind, have been weakened, once, then twice, and even the slightest dressing or balm not offered you. The Righteous One, perfect Rock, who forgives iniquity almost too great to bear, flew from the cherubs to the threshold, and from there to a corner of the roof, because of the iniquity marked out; the scream of it rose up, their evil as abundant as a fruit-tree’s crop.