²⁹ 
Every city runs away at the sound of the horsemen and archers.
They go into the thickets and climb among the rocks;
Every city is deserted,
And no man lives in them.
³⁰ 
And you, O desolate one, what will you do?
Though you clothe yourself in scarlet,
Though you adorn yourself with ornaments of gold,
Though you enlarge your eyes with paint,
You make yourself beautiful in vain.
Your lovers (allies) despise you;
They seek your life.
³¹ 
For I heard a cry like a woman in labor,
The anguish as of one giving birth to her first child,
The cry of the Daughter of Zion (Jerusalem), who gasps for breath,
Who stretches out her hands, saying,
“Woe is me [my judgment comes]! I faint [in fear] before the murderers.”