1 How dark the gold has become, How the pure gold has changed! The sacred stones are poured out At the corner of every street.

2 The precious sons of Zion, Weighed against fine gold, How they are regarded as earthen jars, The work of a potter’s hands!

3 Even jackals offer the breast, They nurse their young; But the daughter of my people has become cruel Like ostriches in the wilderness.

4 The tongue of the infant cleaves To the roof of its mouth because of thirst; The little ones ask for bread, But no one breaks it for them.

5 Those who ate delicacies Are desolate in the streets; Those reared in purple Embrace ash pits.

6 For the iniquity of the daughter of my people Is greater than the sin of Sodom, Which was overthrown as in a moment, And no hands were turned toward her.

7 Her consecrated ones were purer than snow, They were whiter than milk; They were more ruddy in body than corals, Their polishing was like lapis lazuli.

8 Their appearance is blacker than soot, They are not recognized in the streets; Their skin is shriveled on their bones, It is withered, it has become like wood.

9 Better are those slain with the sword Than those slain with hunger; For they pine away, being stricken For lack of the fruits of the field.

10 The hands of compassionate women Boiled their own children; They became food for them Because of the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Lamentations 4:1-10, New American Standard 1995. Copyright © 1995 by The Lockman Foundation.
Lamentations 3
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