meta: {"file": "/data/tomer/Sefaria-Export/txt/Tanakh/Writings/Lamentations/English/The Metsudah Five Megillot, Lakewood, N.J., 2001.txt"}
text: Lamentations
  איכה
  The Metsudah Five Megillot, Lakewood, N.J., 2001
  
  
  Lamentations
  
  
  
  
  
  How can it be that she sits in isolation the city teeming with people has become like a widow? Immense among nations, noble among provinces—she has become a payer of tribute.
  She weeps bitterly in the night, her tear on her cheek. No one consoles her, among all her lovers. All of her friends have betrayed her, they have become her enemies.
  Yehudah was exiled because of torment and excessive toil. [Even] when she dwelt among the nations, she found no rest. All her pursuers overtook her between the barriers.
  The roads of <i>Tzion</i> grieve, for lack of festival visitors. All her gateways are in ruins, her <i>Kohanim</i> groan, her maidens grieve; and she is embittered.
  Her oppressors have become elevated, her enemies are at ease. For Adonoy has brought her grief for her excessive iniquity. Her young were taken captive before the oppressors.
  Gone from the city of <i>Tzion,</i> is all her splendor her nobles have become like harts who could find no pasture, plodding powerlessly before the pursuer.
  Yerusholayim, remembered the days of her [ruin] [which brought her] poverty and lamenting; [and] all her treasures she had in early times. When her people fell into the hands of the oppressors and no one came to her aid, her enemies watched her, laughing derisively when she was curbed (from celebrating her holidays).
  Jerusalem has grievously sinned, and, therefore, has become a wanderer. All those who glorified her scorn her, for they have seen her degradation. She, too, is sorrowful, and has turned backward, (humiliated and ashamed).
  Her defilement is at her hem, she was not mindful of her end—so she plummeted astonishingly, with no one to console her. Adonoy look at my suffering, for the enemy has gone to excess.
  The oppressor extended his hand over all her treasures, as she witnessed peoples entering her Sanctuary concerning whom You commanded, “Let them not enter your community.”
  All her people are groaning, searching for bread. They have given away their treasures for food to keep their souls intact. Look, Adonoy, and take notice how I have become degraded.
  May this not happen to you, all who stray from the path. Notice, see if there is such agony like my agony, that has been visited upon me when Adonoy brought me to grief on the day He vented His wrath.
  From a lofty place He hurled fire into my bones, crushing it. He spread a net for my feet, thrust me back, placed me in ruins, [so that I] suffer throughout the day.
  The yoke of my iniquities is recorded in His hand. They have become interwoven, and have encumbered my neck. He has caused my strength to fail. God has placed me in the hands of those whom I cannot withstand.
  God has trampled all my stalwarts in my midst, He has proclaimed a gathering against me to crush my young men. [As with] a wine press, God has trodden the maidens of the province of Yehudah.
  For these I weep, my eyes [lit. my eye, my eye] gush water, for remote from me is a consoler who can calm my soul. My sons are devastated, for the enemy has conquered.
  <i>Tzion</i> spreads her arms, there is no one to console her. Adonoy has commanded, concerning Yaakov, that his oppressors surround him. Jerusalem has become despicable among them.
  Adonoy is just, for it is I who rejected His word. Listen here, all you nations, look at my torment; my maidens and my young men have gone into captivity.
  I cried out to those who appeared to love me, but they deceived me. My <i>kohanim</i> and elders expired in the city while they searched for food for themselves, to sustain their souls.
  Adonoy, see how oppressed I am? My gut has shriveled, my heart is twisting inside me, because of my rebelliousness. Outside, the sword brings bereavement, within, it is like death.
  They have heard how I groan, and no one consoles me; all my enemies have heard of my calamity, and rejoiced, for it is Your doing. Bring the day that You proclaimed, and let them resemble me.
  Let all their evil come before You, and do, to them, what You have done to me for all my iniquity, for I groan much, and my heart aches.
  
  
  
  How can it be that God, in his wrath, has cast a gloom upon the city of <i>Tzion,</i> that He flung from heaven to earth the glory of Israel, and did not remember His footstool on the day of His wrath?
  God swallowed up mercilessly every residence of Ya’akov. He smashed, in His fury, the fortifications of the province of Yehudah, razing them to the ground. He desecrated the kingdom and its princes.
  He tore down, in his wrath, all the power [lit. horn] of Israel. He withheld His right arm in the face of the enemy. He ignited Ya’akov like a blazing flame which consumes on every side.
  He arched His bow like an enemy, set His right arm like an oppressor, and slew everyone that was a delight to behold. In the tent of the city of <i>Tzion</i> He poured His fury like fire.
  God was like an enemy—He swallowed up Israel, He swallowed up all her palaces, He destroyed its fortifications. He magnified, in the community of Yehudah, suffering and lamentation.
  He cut down His dwelling place like a garden, He destroyed His place of communion, Adonoy caused to be forgotten in <i>Tzion</i> the Festivals and Shabbos. He scorned, in the fury of His wrath, the king and the <i>kohein.</i>
  God abandoned His altar, nullified His Sanctuary, delivered, into the enemy’s hand, the walls of its palaces. They sounded a shout, in the House of Adonoy, like that of a festival day.
  Adonoy determined to destroy the wall of the city of <i>Tzion.</i> He set the course [of judgement], and did not withdraw His hand from destroying. He caused the fence and the wall to mourn they were joined in misery.
  Her gates sank into the ground, He demolished and shattered her bolts. Her king and nobles are among the Gentiles, without guidance. Her prophets, also, have not found vision from Adonoy.
  They sit silently on the ground, the elders of the city of <i>Tzion,</i> they lift the dust to their heads, gird themselves with sackcloth. they lower their heads to the ground, the maidens of Jerusalem.
  My eyes are consumed with tears, my gut is shrivelled, my liver has spilled to the ground, over the disintegration of my people, when infants and nursing babies faint in the streets of the city.
  To their mothers they say, ‘Where’s grain [bread] and wine?’, as they lie, passed out like corpses, in the streets of the city, when their soul is poured out in their mothers’ laps.
  What testimony can I offer you, to what can I compare you, city of Jerusalem? to what can I liken you to console you, O maiden, city of <i>Tzion?</i> For your disintegration is as immense as the sea—who can heal you?
  Your prophets envisioned, for you, falsehood and stupidity, and did not expose your transgressions, to bring you back from your waywardness. They envisioned, for you, prophecies of falsehood and deception.
  They clap their hands over you—all those who travel along the way; they hiss and shake their heads over the city of Jerusalem. Is this the city of which it was said, “The perfection of beauty, delight of all the earth?”
  They opened their mouths wide concerning you—all your enemies—they whistled, gnashed their teeth, and exclaimed, “We swallowed them up? This is precisely the day we hoped for! We’ve experienced it! We’ve seen it!”
  God acted as planned. He fulfilled His word as decreed in the days of old—He destroyed without pity He gave joy to the enemy concerning you, and enhanced the power of your oppressors.
  Their hearts cried out to God. O Rampart of the city of <i>Tzion,</i> pour forth a river of tears day and night. Allow yourself no respite, nor the pupil of your eye silence.
  Rise, cry in the night, when the watches begin, pour your heart out, like water, before God. Lift up your hands to Him for the souls of your infants, faint from starvation at the head of every street.
  Adonoy, look, notice upon whom you have visited this, when women devour their own offspring, infants who were lovingly attended. When in the Sanctuary of God, was murdered—a <i>kohein</i> and prophet.
  On the ground, in the streets they lie, young and old. My maidens and youths have fallen by the sword. You killed, on the day of Your wrath, you slaughtered mercilessly.
  You summoned, as if to a festive day, my surrounding neighbors. There was no one, on the day of Adonoy’s wrath, who found refuge or survived. Those whom I attended lovingly and reared, my enemy has annihilated.
  
  
  
  I am the man who has seen torment, by the rod of His fury.
  He drove me, led me on, into total darkness.
  At me alone, He repeatedly swings His hand, throughout the day.
  He rotted my flesh and skin, smashed my bones.
  He constructed, against me, encircling me with gall and bitter plants.
  He seated me in gloom like the dead of the world.
  He fenced me in and I cannot go out, He chained me heavily.
  Even when I cry out and implore, He represses my prayer.
  He blockaded my roads with stone, He made my paths crooked.
  He is a bear lying in wait for me, a stealthy lion.
  He spread thorns across my roads, He made me hurdle them. He devastated me.
  He arched His bow, and positioned me as a target for the arrow.
  He aimed the arrows of His quiver into my kidneys.
  I was ridiculed by all my people, the subject of their satirical songs throughout the day.
  He satiated me with bitterness, glutted me with bitter plants.
  He ground my teeth on pebblestones, He made me grovel in the dust.
  My soul despaired of peace, I have forgotten goodness.
  I thought that my world was ruined, my hope from Adonoy.
  Remember my torment and my lament, the bitter plants and the gall.
  When remembering, my soul is utterly dejected.
  Still, I take this to heart, and, therefore, continue to hope:
  By the grace of Adonoy we have not perished, for His compassion is not ended.
  Each morning refreshed, Your faithfulness is immense.
  ‘Adonoy is my portion,’ my soul declares, I therefore hope to Him.
  Adonoy is good to those who hope to Him, to the soul which searches for Him.
  It is good to hope, in stillness, for Adonoy’s deliverance.
  It is good for man to bear a yoke during his youth.
  Let him stay alone and wait, for He [God] has cast it upon him.
  Let him place his mouth in the dust, perhaps there is yet hope.
  Let him proffer his cheek to his assailant, let him be satiated with humiliation.
  For God does not forsake forever.
  Rather, should he [man] cause grief, then He [God] is compassionate, in accordance with His immense grace.
  For He does not torment willfully, nor cause men grief.
  By crushing underfoot all the captives on earth.
  Or through the miscarriage of a man’s justice before the Supreme Being.
  Or by aggrieving a man in his dispute—God does not condone this.
  Whosoever issued a declaration that took effect when God did not command?
  That did not emanate from the Almighty—whether harmful or beneficial?
  What should a living man bemoan? A man over his sins.
  Let us examine our ways, scrutinize them, and return to God.
  Let us uplift our hearts together with our hands, to the Almighty in heaven.
  We have transgressed and rebelled, and You have not forgiven.
  You have covered Yourself in wrath, and pursued us. You slew pitilessly.
  You have enveloped Yourself in the cloud, so that no prayer would penetrate.
  You made us seem like spittle, abominable among the nations.
  They opened their mouths wide concerning us—all our enemies.
  Terror, then the pit, were our lot, ruin and disintegration.
  Rivers of water stream from my eye, over the disintegration of my people.
  My eye flows copiously, and will not be stilled, [it will flow] without pause—
  Till Adonoy gazes intently and takes notice from heaven.
  My eye has made me ugly, sorrowing over my soul, more than all the inhabitants of my city.
  I have been constantly trapped like a bird, by those who are my enemies without cause.
  They bound my life to the dungeon, and cast stones upon me.
  The waters rose over my head, I thought, ‘I am cut off!’.
  Still, I cried out Your Name, Adonoy from the abysmal dungeon.
  You have heard my voice. Do not shut Your ear to my [appeal for] relief, to my prayer.
  You came near on the day I called to You, You said, ‘Have no fear.’
  You fought, O God, the battles of my soul, You redeemed my life.
  You have seen, Adonoy, how aggrieved I am—administer justice for me.
  You have seen all their vindictiveness, all their plots against me.
  You have heard their affronts, Adonoy all their [insulting] thoughts concerning me.
  My opponents’ conversation, their unspoken thoughts, are about me, throughout the day.
  Observe them as they sit or rise—I am the subject of their satirical songs.
  Inflict punishment on them, Adonoy as befits their deeds.
  Break their hearts, turn them into fools.
  Pursue wrathfully, annihilate them from under Adonoy’s heavens.
  
  
  
  How can it be that the golden glow has paled, that the splendid jewel is altered? Sacred gems are spilled at the head of every street.
  The cherished children of <i>Tzion,</i> who were evaluated in golden currency—how can they be considered like flasks of clay, the potter’s handiwork?
  Even the serpent bares its breast to nurse its young, yet the daughters of my people have become brutal, like the desert ostrich.
  The tongue of the nursing infant pasted to its palate with thirst, babies pleaded for bread, but no one offered it to them.
  Those who feasted on delicacies were ravaged in the streets, those raised on richly colored brocade embraced the dungheaps.
  My people’s transgressions surpassed the sins of S’dom, which was instantaneously overturned, untouched by [human] hands.
  Her nazirites were more pristine than snow, more lustrous than milk. Those who appeared redder than pearls, who were hewn like sapphire—
  Have become blacker than charcoal in appearance, are unrecognizable in the streets. Their skin is shrivelled on their bones, having become dry as wood.
  They were at an advantage—those who died by the sword—over those who died of starvation, for they dripped, with burst bellies, from [eating] the produce of the fields.
  The hands of merciful women cooked their children. They became their food, when my people disintegrated.
  God spent His wrath, poured out His rage. He ignited a blaze in <i>Tzion,</i> and it consumed its foundations.
  The kings of the earth did not believe nor did all the residents of the world [believe] that an oppressor or an enemy could enter the portals of Jerusalem.
  For the sins of her false prophets, the transgressions of her <i>kohanim,</i> who spilled, within her, the blood of the righteous.
  The blind slithered in the streets, filthied with blood, so that no one could bear touching their garments.
  “Get away, you are contaminated!” they shouted at them. Get away, get away, don’t touch!”, for they were obscene and slithering. They said, among the nations, “They will no longer reside here.”
  In Adonoy’s glaring anger, He dispersed them; He will no longer pay attention to them, because they did not venerate the <i>kohanim,</i> nor oblige the elders.
  We persisted in longingly eyeing illusive reinforcements, our yearning was for a nation that would never come to our aid.
  They lurked behind our footsteps, so that we couldn’t walk our streets, [we felt that] our end was near, our time was up, we were finished.
  Our pursuers were swifter than the eagles in the skies. They hounded us on the hills, laid ambush for us in the wilderness.
  The breath of our nostrils, Adonoy’s anointed, was ensnared in their pitfalls, when we thought that under His shelter, we would survive among the nations.
  Rejoice in gladness, city of Edom, residing in the land of Utz—unto you, as well, shall the come to pass, intoxicating you till you vomit.
  You have been fully chastised for your sins, city of <i>Tzion.</i> He will never exile you again. He remembers your sins, city of Edom, your iniquity is exposed.
  
  
  
  God, remember what happened to us; look, take note of our degradation.
  Our heritage was subverted to strangers, our homes to foreigners.
  We have been orphaned, there is no father, our mothers are as widows.
  We pay to drink our own water, our wood is acquired for a price.
  We are hounded around our necks, we exhaust ourselves, but nothing remains for us.
  We extended a hand toward Egypt [for assistance,] toward Ashur, to satiate us with bread.
  Our forefathers sinned, and are no longer—we must bear the burden of their transgressions.
  Slaves rule over us, and there is no redeemer from their clutches.
  We gain our bread at the risk of our lives, from the sword of the wilderness.
  Our skin is inflamed like a furnace, from burning hunger.
  Matrons were ravished in <i>Tzion,</i> maidens in the cities of <i>Yehudah.</i>
  Noblemen were hung by the hands, elders were accorded no reverence.
  Youths were encumbered with millstones, boys staggered with beams.
  The elders vanished from the gates of justice, young men from their halls of song.
  Joy has disappeared from our hearts, our dance has turned to grief.
  The crown of our heads has fallen. Woe to us, for we have sinned.
  For this our hearts ached, over these, our eyes were dulled—
  Over Mount <i>Tzion</i> which was devastated, foxes meandered across it.
  Adonoy, You shall endure for all eternity, Your throne throughout the generations;
  Why, then, O Eternal, do You forget us, abandon us through lengthy days?
  Adonoy, return us to You then we shall repent. Rejuvenate our days as in early times.
  For, although You may have considered us contemptible, You have already vented the utmost fury against us. (Adonoy, God, return us to You, then we shall repent. Rejuvenate our days as in early times.)