The elders of the daughter of Zion Sit upon the ground, and keep silence: They have cast up dust upon their heads; They have girded themselves with sackcloth: The virgins of Jerusalem Hang down their heads to the ground. Mine eyes do fail with tears, My bowels are troubled, My liver is poured upon the earth, For the destruction of the daughter of my people; Because the children and the sucklings swoon In the streets of the city. They say to their mothers, Where is corn and wine? When they swooned as the wounded In the streets of the city, When their soul was poured out Into their mothers' bosom. What thing shall I take to witness for thee? what thing shall I liken to thee, O daughter of Jerusalem? What shall I equal to thee, that I may comfort thee, O virgin daughter of Zion? For thy breach is great like the sea: Who can heal thee?
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