Rotherham(i) 1 How could My Lord, in his anger, enshroud in gloom, the daughter of Zion? have cast from the heavens to the earth, the beauty of Israel? and not have remembered his footstool, in the day of his anger? 2 My Lord hath swallowed up—without pity—all the pastures of Jacob, hath laid waste—in his indignation—the strongholds of the daughter of Judah, hath brought them down to the ground,—hath profaned the kingdom, and the princes thereof. 3 He hath broken off—in the glow of his anger—the whole horn of Israel, hath turned back his right hand, from the face of the foe,—and hath kindled against Jacob, a very fire of flame, devouring round about. 4 He hath trodden his bow like a foe, his right hand erect as an adversary, and hath slain all them who delighted the eye,—In the home of the daughter of Zion, hath he poured out, as fire, his indignation. 5 My Lord hath become like a foe, hath swallowed up Israel, hath swallowed up all her castles, ruined his strongholds,—and hath caused to abound, in the daughter of Judah, lamentation and mourning. 6 Thus hath he destroyed, like a garden, his pavilion, hath laid waste his place of assembly,—Yahweh, hath caused to be forgotten, in Zion, the appointed assembly and the sabbath, and hath spurned, in the indignation of his anger, the king and the priest. 7 My Lord hath rejected his altar, hath abhorred his sanctuary, hath delivered, into the hand of the foe, the walls of her castles,—A voice, have they uttered in the house of Yahweh, as on the day of an appointed assembly. 8 Yahweh hath devised to lay in ruins, the wall of the daughter of Zion, he hath stretched out a line, he hath not turned back his hand from swallowing up,—Thus hath he caused to mourn—rampart and wall, together, have they languished! 9 Her gates, have sunk in the earth, He hath destroyed and broken in pieces, her bars,—Her king and her princes, are among the nations, There is no instruction, Even her prophets, have found no vision, from Yahweh. 10 Seated on the ground, in silence, are the elders of the daughter of Zion, They have lifted up dust on their head, have girded themselves with sackcloth,—Bowed down to the ground is the head, of the virgins of Jerusalem. 11 Blinded with tears are mine eyes, In ferment is my body, Poured out to the earth is my grief, for the sore hurt of the daughter of my people,—when child and suckling are swooning, in the broadways of the city. 12 To their mothers, they keep saying, Where are corn and wine? Swooning off, like one thrust through, in the broadways of the city, pouring out their life into the bosom of their mothers. 13 How shall I solemnly admonish thee? What shall I liken to thee, thou daughter of Jerusalem? What shall I compare with thee, that I may comfort thee, thou virgin, daughter of Zion? for, great as the sea, is thy grievous injury, Who can heal thee? 14 Thy prophets, have had visions for thee, false and foolish, and have not unveiled thine iniquity, to turn back thy captivity,—Yea they have had visions for thee, oracles of falsehood, and enticements! 15 All passing by, have clapped, over thee, their hands, have hissed and wagged their head over the daughter of Jerusalem,—[saying], Is, this, the city, of which men used to say—The perfection of beauty! A joy to the whole earth! 16 All thy foes, have opened wide, over thee their mouth, They have hissed, and gnashed their teeth, They have said—We have swallowed [her] up! Surely, this, is the day for which we have waited, We have found! We have seen! 17 Yahweh hath done what he thought, hath carried out his word, wherewith he gave charge in the days of old, hath thrown down, and not spared,—Thus hath he let the enemy rejoice over thee, hath raised high the horn of thine adversaries. 18 Their heart, hath made outcry, unto My Lord,—O wall of the daughter of Zion—Let tears run down as a torrent day and night, Do not give thyself relief, Let not the weeping of thine eye cease! 19 Arise, cry out in the night, At the beginning of the watches, pour out, like waters, thy heart, right before the face of My Lord,—Lift up, above thee, the palms of thy hands, for the life of thy children, who are swooning for hunger, at the top of all the streets! 20 See, O Yahweh, and do consider, to whom thou hast acted thus severely,—Will women, devour, their own fruit—the children they have dandled? Shall priest and prophet, be slain in the sanctuary of My Lord? 21 Youth and elder, have lain down on the ground in the streets, My virgins and my young men, have fallen by the sword,—Thou hast slain, in the day of thine anger, Thou hast slaughtered, hast not spared! 22 Wilt thou proclaim, like the day of an appointed meeting—My terrors round about? when there was not—in the day of the anger of Yahweh—fugitive or survivor,—Those whom I dandled and reared, my foe hath destroyed.