Lamentations.
Chapter 2.
How the Lord has spread a cloud of his anger over the Daughter of Zion! He has thrown down Israel's glory from heaven to earth. He has deserted his Temple from the time he became angry. 
The Lord has destroyed without mercy all the places where the descendants of Jacob lived. In his anger he has torn down the fortresses of the Daughter of Judah. He has demolished and degraded the kingdom and its leaders. 
In his fury he has destroyed all of Israel's power, refusing to help as the enemy attacked. He was like a fire blazing in the land of Jacob, burning everything up. 
He has fired arrows from his bow as if he were their enemy; he has used his power against them like an attacker. He has killed all the beloved children; he has poured out his anger like fire on the tent of the Daughter of Zion. 
The Lord has become like an enemy, completely destroying Israel and its palaces, demolishing its fortresses, making the Daughter of Judah cry and mourn more and more. 
He has torn down his Temple as if was a garden shed; he has destroyed his meeting place. The Lord has made Zion forget about her religious festivals and Sabbaths. In his fury he has disowned both king and priest. 
The Lord has discarded his altar; he has abandoned his Temple. He has handed it over to the enemy. They were shouting triumphantly in the Lord's Temple just as worshipers did on festival days. 
The Lord was determined to destroy the defensive walls of the Daughter of Zion. He measured out what he would destroy, and didn't hesitate to do it. He made the battlements and walls weep; they both disintegrated. 
Her gates have collapsed to the ground; he has destroyed their bars, breaking them apart. Her king and her princes have been exiled to other countries. No one follows the Law anymore, and even her prophets no longer receive visions from the Lord. 
The elders of the Daughter of Zion sit on the ground in silence. They have thrown dust over their heads and put on clothes made of sackcloth. The young women of Jerusalem have bowed down, their heads to the ground. 
My eyes are worn out from crying; inside I am in turmoil. I'm sick and exhausted over the destruction of Jerusalem, the daughter of my people, because children and infants are fainting in the city streets. 
They cry out to their mothers, “We need food and drink!” fainting in the city streets as if they're wounded, their lives fading away in their mothers' arms. 
What can I tell you? What shall I compare you to, Daughter of Jerusalem? What can I say you're like in order to comfort you, virgin Daughter of Zion? For your wound gapes as wide as the sea—who could ever heal you? 
The visions of your prophets were false and worthless; they didn't point out your guilt to prevent you being taken into captivity. Instead they presented to you visions that were false and deceptive. 
Everyone who passes by mock you, clapping their hands, hissing and shaking their heads in scorn at the Daughter of Jerusalem. “Is this really the city that people called the perfection of beauty, the joy of all the earth?” they ask. 
All your enemies open their mouths at you, hissing and gnashing their teeth, “We've swallowed her up! This is the day we've been waiting for. Now it's here and we've seen it happen!” 
The Lord has achieved what he decided; he has done what he warned he would. Just as he determined to do long ago, he has destroyed you, showing no mercy. He has allowed the enemy to gloat over your defeat, and he has given power to those who attack you. 
The people cry out to the Lord from the bottom of their hearts. Daughter of Zion, let your walls stream down with tears like a river all day and night. Don't stop, go on crying! 
Get up and cry out as the night begins. Pour out your sad thoughts like water before the Lord. Hold up your hands to him in prayer for the lives of your children who are fainting from hunger at every street corner. 
Lord, please think about it! Who have you ever treated this way? Should women have to eat their children, the little ones they love? Should priests and prophets be killed in the Lord's Temple? 
The dead, young and old, lie together in the dust of the streets. My young men and young women, have been killed by the sword. You killed them when you were angry; you have slaughtered them without mercy. 
You invited enemies to attack me from every direction like you were inviting them to a religious festival. At the time when the Lord was angry nobody escaped, nobody survived. My enemy has destroyed the children I looked after and loved. 
