1 How dim the gold has become, The fine gold changed! The stones of the set-apart place Are scattered at the head of every street.
2 The precious sons of Tsiyon Who were weighed against fine gold, How they have been reckoned as clay pots, The work of the hands of the potter!
3 Even jackals have presented their breasts, They have nursed their young. The daughter of my people has become as cruel, As ostriches in the wilderness.
4 The tongue of the infant has clung To the roof of its mouth for thirst; Children asked for bread, No one breaks it for them.
5 Those who ate delicacies Have been laid waste in the streets; Those who were brought up in scarlet Have embraced dunghills.
6 And the crookedness of the daughter of my people Is greater than the punishment of the sin of Seḏom, Which was overthrown in a moment, And no hands were wrung over her!
7 Her Nazirites were brighter than snow And whiter than milk; More ruddy in body than rubies, Their cut like sapphire.