Lamentations 1
Deserted — once thriving — this desolate city:
Jerusalem, empty of all but her fate.
She sits as a widow, alone, more's the pity,
among every nation, she used to be great.
The princess who ruled them is now a slave made.
She bitterly weeps — through the night she is crying;
her tears cannot stop nor be dried from her cheeks.
Among all her lovers there is no denying,
she won't find the comfort she desperately seeks.
Her foes were her friends, and by them she's betrayed.
The exiles of Judah, now in subjugation,
enslaved to hard labor, they're sorely oppressed.
She finds herself dwelling among heathen nations,
but can't find among them a place she can rest.
Pursued, she is taken in her dire straits.
The roads to Jerusalem mourn — they're dejected,
since none celebrate in her annual feasts;
the gates to the city have all been neglected;
with tears from her virgins and groans from her priests,
she suffers in anguish — how bitter her fate.
Her foes and oppressors become now her master,
her enemies prosper with win after win;
the LORD has since brought her much grief and disaster,
because of her many wrongdoings and sin.
Her children are captured and taken away.
The Daughter of Zion — her beauty's departed,
her splendor and majesty that were renowned.
Her princes and leaders — as deer, now regarded,
who search for green pastures that cannot be found;
too weakened to run from the hunters that prey.
Recalling the treasures that she has no longer,
Jerusalem longs for those good times before.
Her people have fallen to those who were stronger;
there's no one to give her their aid anymore.
Her enemies laugh at her fall and decay.
Jerusalem, oh what great sins executed,
she's thrown out and tossed like a rag that's unclean;
the honors she's held now have all been refuted,
despised now is she with her nakedness seen;
she sighs and she groans and, at last, turns away.
Her filthy skirts cling to her — putrid and stinking;
she did not consider her ultimate end.
Her downfall was sudden, a glorious sinking;
she neither has comfort nor aid of a friend.
Behold, LORD, my anguish; my foe's magnified.
Now reaching his hand out is her adversary,
to take things from her that are pleasant and fair;
and she has seen nations breach her sanctuary,
the heathen and gentiles that should not be there.
The ones you forbade, LORD, to enter inside.
Her people are groaning, and their hope is fading,
they scour the region to simply find bread.
They part with their trophies and treasures they're trading
in order to live and not join with the dead.
She mourns, O LORD, see, I'm reviled and spurned.
Come, see and take notice, she cries out in anguish,
all you who pass by, is it nothing to you?
Is there any pain like my pain as I languish,
or sorrow like mine that the world ever knew,
that Yahweh brought on me when his anger burned?
From heaven above he sends fire that burns me,
consuming the whole of my bones with its heat;
he's placed in my pathway a netting that turns me
around to go back in a hopeless retreat;
I'm stunned and I'm shocked and in pain all day long.
My sins have been made as a yoke that he's knitted,
and fastened together and wove in detail;
his hands draped it over my neck to be fitted.
The LORD broke my strength, and he's caused it to fail;
he's given me into the hands of the strong.
The LORD has rejected the men who attend me,
destroying those strong men and warriors of mine;
he's chosen a time to crush those who defend me,
they're crushed like the winepress has trodden the vine,
the virgin, the daughter of Judah, she wailed.
For all of these reasons do my tears keep pouring,
my eyes weep a river from my constant grief,
because the one who should be here and restoring
my soul is too distant to give me relief.
My children have nothing — my foe has prevailed.
Though Zion puts forth her hand, comfort eludes her,
and she has no solace from any she knows.
The LORD has commanded to Jacob's own future,
Let all of his neighbors become now his foes;
for she is a rag filled with menstrual stains.
Jerusalem says, The LORD's righteous and holy,
and I have rebelled against him, I confess.
Now listen, all people, both high-born and lowly,
and look at my anguish, my pain and distress.
My sons and my daughters are captives in chains.
I called to my lovers and those whom I cherished,
but I was betrayed by them, I was deceived;
my priests and my elders, by hunger, have perished,
they died in a city foes blocked and besieged;
died searching for food until their final breath.
Oh, see LORD, this anguish and pain that I carry,
my heart is distressed, and my bowels have expelled;
my spirit despairs and I wish I could bury
those years I ignored you and times I rebelled.
Abroad, swords may slay — but at home, certain death.
They've all heard me groan and have seen my condition,
but no one has given me comfort I've sought;
my enemies heard all about my affliction,
they're glad that you've done to me all that you've wrought.
Announce the day they'll get what I have received.
Let all of their wickedness be their undoing,
may they and their sins come before you one day;
as you've dealt with me, may their sins be accruing
and treat them like me for my immoral ways.
For my groans are many, and my heart is grieved.
Jerusalem, empty of all but her fate.
She sits as a widow, alone, more's the pity,
among every nation, she used to be great.
The princess who ruled them is now a slave made.
She bitterly weeps — through the night she is crying;
her tears cannot stop nor be dried from her cheeks.
Among all her lovers there is no denying,
she won't find the comfort she desperately seeks.
Her foes were her friends, and by them she's betrayed.
The exiles of Judah, now in subjugation,
enslaved to hard labor, they're sorely oppressed.
She finds herself dwelling among heathen nations,
but can't find among them a place she can rest.
Pursued, she is taken in her dire straits.
The roads to Jerusalem mourn — they're dejected,
since none celebrate in her annual feasts;
the gates to the city have all been neglected;
with tears from her virgins and groans from her priests,
she suffers in anguish — how bitter her fate.
Her foes and oppressors become now her master,
her enemies prosper with win after win;
the LORD has since brought her much grief and disaster,
because of her many wrongdoings and sin.
Her children are captured and taken away.
The Daughter of Zion — her beauty's departed,
her splendor and majesty that were renowned.
Her princes and leaders — as deer, now regarded,
who search for green pastures that cannot be found;
too weakened to run from the hunters that prey.
Recalling the treasures that she has no longer,
Jerusalem longs for those good times before.
Her people have fallen to those who were stronger;
there's no one to give her their aid anymore.
Her enemies laugh at her fall and decay.
Jerusalem, oh what great sins executed,
she's thrown out and tossed like a rag that's unclean;
the honors she's held now have all been refuted,
despised now is she with her nakedness seen;
she sighs and she groans and, at last, turns away.
Her filthy skirts cling to her — putrid and stinking;
she did not consider her ultimate end.
Her downfall was sudden, a glorious sinking;
she neither has comfort nor aid of a friend.
Behold, LORD, my anguish; my foe's magnified.
Now reaching his hand out is her adversary,
to take things from her that are pleasant and fair;
and she has seen nations breach her sanctuary,
the heathen and gentiles that should not be there.
The ones you forbade, LORD, to enter inside.
Her people are groaning, and their hope is fading,
they scour the region to simply find bread.
They part with their trophies and treasures they're trading
in order to live and not join with the dead.
She mourns, O LORD, see, I'm reviled and spurned.
Come, see and take notice, she cries out in anguish,
all you who pass by, is it nothing to you?
Is there any pain like my pain as I languish,
or sorrow like mine that the world ever knew,
that Yahweh brought on me when his anger burned?
From heaven above he sends fire that burns me,
consuming the whole of my bones with its heat;
he's placed in my pathway a netting that turns me
around to go back in a hopeless retreat;
I'm stunned and I'm shocked and in pain all day long.
My sins have been made as a yoke that he's knitted,
and fastened together and wove in detail;
his hands draped it over my neck to be fitted.
The LORD broke my strength, and he's caused it to fail;
he's given me into the hands of the strong.
The LORD has rejected the men who attend me,
destroying those strong men and warriors of mine;
he's chosen a time to crush those who defend me,
they're crushed like the winepress has trodden the vine,
the virgin, the daughter of Judah, she wailed.
For all of these reasons do my tears keep pouring,
my eyes weep a river from my constant grief,
because the one who should be here and restoring
my soul is too distant to give me relief.
My children have nothing — my foe has prevailed.
Though Zion puts forth her hand, comfort eludes her,
and she has no solace from any she knows.
The LORD has commanded to Jacob's own future,
Let all of his neighbors become now his foes;
for she is a rag filled with menstrual stains.
Jerusalem says, The LORD's righteous and holy,
and I have rebelled against him, I confess.
Now listen, all people, both high-born and lowly,
and look at my anguish, my pain and distress.
My sons and my daughters are captives in chains.
I called to my lovers and those whom I cherished,
but I was betrayed by them, I was deceived;
my priests and my elders, by hunger, have perished,
they died in a city foes blocked and besieged;
died searching for food until their final breath.
Oh, see LORD, this anguish and pain that I carry,
my heart is distressed, and my bowels have expelled;
my spirit despairs and I wish I could bury
those years I ignored you and times I rebelled.
Abroad, swords may slay — but at home, certain death.
They've all heard me groan and have seen my condition,
but no one has given me comfort I've sought;
my enemies heard all about my affliction,
they're glad that you've done to me all that you've wrought.
Announce the day they'll get what I have received.
Let all of their wickedness be their undoing,
may they and their sins come before you one day;
as you've dealt with me, may their sins be accruing
and treat them like me for my immoral ways.
For my groans are many, and my heart is grieved.
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