Lamentations 5
LORD, remember the things we have suffered!
Pay attention and notice our shame.
Our inheritance, given to strangers;
and our houses, now foreigners claim.
We have now become fatherless orphans,
and our mothers are widows as well.
We must pay just to use our own water,
and our wood must be wood that they sell.
Our pursuers have treated us harshly;
we are weary but given no rest.
We have given our hand to Egyptians,
and to Assur for bread they possessed.
Yes, our ancestors sinned, but they're gone now,
yet we're bearing their punishment still.
For the slaves have become our new masters,
and there's none who can free us or will.
We obtain bread to eat at our peril,
for the sword of the wilderness slays.
And our skin is as hot as an oven,
with the fever of famine ablaze.
Sadly, women of Zion are ravished;
Judah's virgins are treated the same.
By their thumbs are the princes seen hanging,
and our elders are treated with shame.
Young men forced to grind meal at the millstones;
loads of wood on young shoulders are laid.
No more elders at gates of the city;
the young men stopped the music they played.
All the joy of our hearts now has ended;
and our dancing to mourning has turned.
From our head has our glory now fallen;
woe to us as our punishment's earned.
For these reasons, our hearts become weary;
for these reasons, our eyes start to fade.
For the mountain of Zion is empty,
but for jackals that roam unafraid.
But, Jehovah, your reign is forever;
and your throne for all time will not end.
LORD, have we been abandoned forever?
Will you ever recall us again?
LORD, restore us to our old position,
and renew our days as days of old,
unless we've been completely rejected,
and your anger will never grow cold.
Pay attention and notice our shame.
Our inheritance, given to strangers;
and our houses, now foreigners claim.
We have now become fatherless orphans,
and our mothers are widows as well.
We must pay just to use our own water,
and our wood must be wood that they sell.
Our pursuers have treated us harshly;
we are weary but given no rest.
We have given our hand to Egyptians,
and to Assur for bread they possessed.
Yes, our ancestors sinned, but they're gone now,
yet we're bearing their punishment still.
For the slaves have become our new masters,
and there's none who can free us or will.
We obtain bread to eat at our peril,
for the sword of the wilderness slays.
And our skin is as hot as an oven,
with the fever of famine ablaze.
Sadly, women of Zion are ravished;
Judah's virgins are treated the same.
By their thumbs are the princes seen hanging,
and our elders are treated with shame.
Young men forced to grind meal at the millstones;
loads of wood on young shoulders are laid.
No more elders at gates of the city;
the young men stopped the music they played.
All the joy of our hearts now has ended;
and our dancing to mourning has turned.
From our head has our glory now fallen;
woe to us as our punishment's earned.
For these reasons, our hearts become weary;
for these reasons, our eyes start to fade.
For the mountain of Zion is empty,
but for jackals that roam unafraid.
But, Jehovah, your reign is forever;
and your throne for all time will not end.
LORD, have we been abandoned forever?
Will you ever recall us again?
LORD, restore us to our old position,
and renew our days as days of old,
unless we've been completely rejected,
and your anger will never grow cold.
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