The respected leaders of Zion's people sit silently on the ground. They throw dirt on their heads and put on sackcloth. The young women of Jerusalem bow their heads to the ground.
My eyes are worn out with tears. My stomach is churning. My heart is poured out on the ground because of the destruction of my people. Little children and infants faint in the city streets.
They're asking their mothers for some bread and wine as they faint like wounded people in the city streets. Their lives dwindle away in their mothers' arms.