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Of all I had, the Lord has taken away the noblest; lost to me, all the flower of my chivalry, under his strict audit; Sion, poor maid, here was a wine-press well trodden down! (Lamentations 1, 15)
Quest for consolation is vain, let her plead where she will; neighbours of Jacob, so the Lord decrees, are Jacob’s enemies, and all around they shrink from her, as from a thing unclean. (Lamentations 1, 17)
Right the Lord has in his quarrel; I have set his commands at defiance. O world, take warning; see what pangs I suffer, all my folk gone into exile, both man and maid. (Lamentations 1, 18)
Take note, Lord, of my anguish, how my bosom burns, and my heart melts within me, in bitter ruth.✻ And all the while, sword threatens without, and death not less cruel within. (Lamentations 1, 20)
Alas, what mantle of cloud is this, the divine anger has thrown over unhappy Sion? The pride of Israel cast down from heaven to earth; the ground where the Lord’s feet once rested, now, in his anger, forgotten? (Lamentations 2, 1)
Blessed abodes of Jacob, by the Lord’s unsparing vengeance engulfed; towers that kept Juda inviolable hurled to the ground in ruin; kingdom and throne dragged in the dust! (Lamentations 2, 2)
Grown weary of his altar, from his own sanctuary turning away in abhorrence, the Lord has given up yonder embattled towers to the enemy; their cries ring through the temple like shout of holiday. (Lamentations 2, 7)
Heedfully the Lord went about his work, to strip the inviolable city of her walls; exact his measuring-line, busy his hand with the task of overthrow, till wall and rampart should lament their common ruin. (Lamentations 2, 8)
Idly the gates of her sag towards earth, bars riven and rent; king and chieftain are far away, exiled among the heathen; tradition is dead, nor any prophet learns, in vision, the Lord’s will. (Lamentations 2, 9)
Quit is the Lord of his oath taken in times past; all his purpose is fulfilled; for thee, ruin relentless, for thy bitter enemy, triumph and high achievement. (Lamentations 2, 17)
Round those inviolable defences, cry they upon the Lord in good earnest. Day and night, Sion, let thy tears stream down; never rest thou, never let that eye weary of its task.✻ (Lamentations 2, 18)
Think well, Lord, is there any other people of whom thou hast taken such toll? Shall woman eat her own child, so tiny, hands can still clasp it? In the Lord’s sanctuary, priest and prophet be slain? (Lamentations 2, 20)
