1
How the gold has become dim! How changed the fine gold! The stones of the sanctuary are scattered At the head of every street.
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.