Lamentations 2:11-13

The Voice

¹¹ Knowing the fate of Zion, my insides are in turmoil and pour out
    for Jerusalem, the devastation of the daughter of my people.
I can’t see because of the tears for the children in the streets—
    I can’t stop crying for infants and toddlers too weak to wail.
My people are destroyed.

¹² Little Children: Mother, grain and wine—where is it?

Like the wounded,
    collapsing in the city streets,
They pine and die
    on their mother’s breast.

¹³ My dear daughter Jerusalem,
    how can I tell your tragedy?
To what can I liken this disgrace?
    O virgin daughter Zion, would that I could comfort you.
Who can heal your massive injury
    that is as deep and wide as the sea?