Our fathers sinned, are not: we have borne their iniquities.
Servants have ruled over us: there is none to ransom out of their hand.
We shall bring in our bread with our lives, because of the sword of the wilderness.
Our skin is blackened like an oven; they are convulsed, because of the storms of famine.
They humbled the women in Sion, the virgins in the cities of Juda.
Princes were hanged up by their hands: the elders were not honoured.
The chosen men lifted up weeping, and the youths fainted under the wood.
And the elders ceased from the gate, the chosen men ceased from their music.
The joy of our heart has ceased; our dance is turned into mourning.
The crown has fallen our head: yea, woe to us! for we have sinned.
For this has grief come; our heart is sorrowful: for this our eyes are darkened.