Lamentations.
Chapter 4.
How gold has tarnished! Even pure gold has lost its shine! Jewels from the Temple have been scattered on every street corner. 
Look at how the precious people of Zion, worth their weight in gold, are now valued like cheap clay jars made by a potter! 
Even jackals nurse their young at their breasts, but the women of my people have become cruel, like an ostrich in the desert. 
The nursing babies are so thirsty that their tongues stick to the roof of their mouths. Little children beg for food, but nobody gives them anything. 
Those who used to eat gourmet food now die starving in the streets. Those who dressed in fine clothes from their childhood now live in heaps of rubbish. 
Jerusalem's punishment is worse than sinful Sodom's, which was destroyed in a brief moment, without the help of human hands. 
Her leaders were purer than snow, whiter than milk; their bodies were a healthier red than coral, and they shone like lapis lazuli. 
But now they look blacker than soot; no one recognizes them in the street. Their skin has shrunk to their bones and is as dry as wood. 
Those killed by the sword are better off than those who die of hunger, who slowly waste away in agony because the fields produce no crops. 
The hands of loving women have cooked their own children to eat during the destruction of Jerusalem. 
The Lord has given full expression to his anger. He has poured out his fury. He has started a fire in Zion, and it has burned down her very foundations. 
No king on earth—in fact nobody in all the world—thought that an enemy or attacker could enter the gates of Jerusalem. 
But this happened because of the sins of her prophets and the wickedness of her priests, who shed the blood of the innocent right there in the city. 
They wandered like blind men through the streets, made unclean by this blood, so no one would touch their clothes. 
“Go away! You're unclean!” people would shout at them, “Go away, go away! Don't touch us!” So they ran away and wandered from country to country, but the people there told them, “You can't stay here!” 
The Lord himself has scattered them; he doesn't bother with them anymore. Nobody respects the priests, and nobody admires the leaders. 
We wore out our eyes pointlessly looking for help the whole time; we watched from our towers for a nation to come that couldn't save us. 
The enemy tracked our every movement so we couldn't walk through our streets. Our end approached. Our time was up because our end had come. 
Our pursuers were faster than eagles in the sky. They chased us across the mountains and ambushed us in the desert. 
The king, the Lord's anointed, our country's “life-breath,” was trapped and captured by them. We had said about him, “Under his protection we will live among the nations.” 
Celebrate and be happy while you can, people of Edom, you who live in the land of Uz, because this cup will be passed to you too. You will get drunk and strip yourself naked. 
People of Zion, your punishment is coming to an end—he won't continue your exile for long. But he is going to punish your sins, people of Edom; he will reveal your sins. 
