Psalm 137:6-8

The Voice

^5-6O Jerusalem, even still, don’t escape my memory.
    I treasure you and your songs, even as I hide my harp from the enemy.
And if I can’t remember,
    may I never sing a song again—
    may my hands never play well again—
For what use would it be if I don’t remember Jerusalem
    as my source of joy?

⁷Remember, Eternal One, how the Edomites, our brothers, the descendants of Esau,
    stood by and watched as Jerusalem fell.
Gloating, they said, “Destroy it;
    tear it down to the ground,” when Jerusalem was being demolished.
⁸O daughter of Babylon, you are destined for destruction!
    Happy are those who pay you back for how you treated us
    so you will no longer walk so proud.