By the rivers in Babylon we sat and cried when we remembered Jerusalem. On the poplar trees nearby we hung our harps. Those who captured us asked us to sing; our enemies wanted happy songs. They said, “Sing us a song about Jerusalem!” But we cannot sing songs about the LORD while we are in this foreign country! Jerusalem, if I forget you, let my right hand lose its skill. Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not think about Jerusalem as my greatest joy.
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