Lamentations 4:1-6

How dark the gold has become, How the pure gold has changed! The sacred stones are poured out At the corner of every street. The precious sons of Zion, Weighed against fine gold, How they are regarded as earthen jars, The work of a potter’s hands! Even jackals offer the breast, They nurse their young; But the daughter of my people has become cruel Like ostriches in the wilderness. The tongue of the infant cleaves To the roof of its mouth because of thirst; The little ones ask for bread, But no one breaks it for them. Those who ate delicacies Are desolate in the streets; Those reared in purple Embrace ash pits. For the iniquity of the daughter of my people Is greater than the sin of Sodom, Which was overthrown as in a moment, And no hands were turned toward her.

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