Lamentations (Eikha)

EIKHA 11 How the city that flocked with people sits alone; she is like a widow. She 2 who was great among nations, princess of states, now a bonded colony. She weeps, weeps through the nights; on her cheek, tears. Of all her friends there is none to console her; all her lovers have betrayed her, become enemies to 3 her. Oppression has exiled Judah, oppression and the harshness of her labor. She sits among nations, finds no resting place; all her pursuers have caught 4 her, among the narrow spaces. The streets of Zion are grieving — festive times, but no one comes. All her gates are desolate, her priests are groaning, her S young girls are sorrowful, and she — her life is bitter. Her foes are the head of this beast now, her enemies tranquil, for the Lorp has brought her sorrow for all her crimes. Her infants walked off captive before foes. 6 Itis gone from daughter Zion - all her honor gone. Her princes have become 7 like deer that find no pasture, walking without strength before pursuers. She remembers, Jerusalem, in her days of oppression and wandering, all the ones she treasured, who once were, then; how her people fell at the foes’ hands with none to help her. They see her now, these enemies, and laugh at what 8 has ceased in her. She has sinned — Jerusalem sinned, and so she is become an outcast. All who once respected her abase her: they have seen her naked; 9 now she too is groaning, and sits apart. Her impurity stains her skirts; she forgot what her end would be. Her fall was startling; none console her. “Lorn, witness this oppression; the enemy grew strong.” 10 A foe has spread his hand over all her treasured ones. The nations saw her, they came to her Temple - those that You commanded must never come 11 among Your people. All her nation groans: they are seeking bread. They gave up their treasured ones for food, to restore their souls - “See this, Lorn, look on - 1 am abased. 12 “May this never come to you, all you who cross my path. Look on now and see - is there any pain like mine? Like that, which was done to me, the sorrow 13, the Lorn sent me, on the day His rage burned? From above He sent down fire, through my bones, and broke them all. He spread the net at my feet, sent me backwards. He rendered me desolate, all the day, ailing. 14 “The yoke of my crimes was bound together, the ropes twisted in His hand, were raised to my neck, brought down my strength. The Lorp has given 15- me over to the hands of one I cannot rise from. He cast all my heroes aside - the Lorn in my midst. He called together the forces primed to break my young men. The Lorp trod red the wine-press of the virgin daughter Judah.