Lamentations 4:1-6

How the gold has become dim! How changed the fine gold! The stones of the sanctuary are scattered At the head of every street. The precious sons of Zion, Valuable as fine gold, How they are regarded as clay pots, The work of the hands of the potter! Even the jackals present their breasts To nurse their young; But the daughter of my people is cruel, Like ostriches in the wilderness. 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. Those who ate delicacies Are desolate in the streets; Those who were brought up in scarlet Embrace ash heaps. 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!