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5 Bethink thee, O Lord, of our plight;
Look and see how Thy folk are insulted.
2 Our home-land is turned unto strangers;
Our houses are passed unto foreigners.
3 Fatherless orphans are we,
And our mothers are like unto widows.
4 The water we drink we must buy,
And our wood becomes our at a price.
5 The yoke presses hard on our necks;
We are weary and never find rest.
6 We have stretched out our hands unto Egypt;
To Assyria also, for bread.
7 Our fathers, who sinned are no more;
And their guilt has been borne by us.
8 Servants are now our lords;
From their hand there is no one to save us.
9 We win bread at the risk of our lives
From the murderous bands of the desert.
10 Like an oven our skin is aglow
With the fierce fever-heat of famine.
11 The matrons they ravished in Zion,
The maids in the cities of Judah:
12 Princes were hanged by their hands,
And the faces of elders dishonoured.
13 Young men had to carry the mill;
Youths fell beneath loads of wood.
14 The elders have from the gate
And the youths given over their music.
15 The joy of our heart is vanished;
Our dancing is turned into mourning.
16 The crown is fallen from our head;
Woe, woe unto us! We have sinned.
17 For this is our heart turned faint,
For these things our eyes are grown dim–
18 For the mountains of Zion, now waste,
Over which the jackals roam.