2
The precious sons of Zion, Valuable as fine gold, How they are regarded as clay pots, The work of the hands of the potter!
3
Even the jackals present their breasts To nurse their young; But the daughter of my people is cruel, Like ostriches in the wilderness.
4
The tongue of the infant clings To the roof of its mouth for thirst; The young children ask for bread, But no one breaks it for them.
5
Those who ate delicacies Are desolate in the streets; Those who were brought up in scarlet Embrace ash heaps.
6
The punishment of the iniquity of the daughter of my people Is greater than the punishment of the sin of Sodom, Which was overthrown in a moment, With no hand to help her!
7
Her Nazirites were brighter than snow And whiter than milk; They were more ruddy in body than rubies, Like sapphire in their appearance.
8
Now their appearance is blacker than soot; They go unrecognized in the streets; Their skin clings to their bones, It has become as dry as wood.
9
Those slain by the sword are better off Than those who die of hunger; For these pine away, Stricken for lack of the fruits of the field.
10
The hands of the compassionate women Have cooked their own children; They became food for them In the destruction of the daughter of my people.
11
The Lord has fulfilled His fury, He has poured out His fierce anger. He kindled a fire in Zion, And it has devoured its foundations.
12
The kings of the earth, And all inhabitants of the world, Would not have believed That the adversary and the enemy Could enter the gates of Jerusalem--