Lamentations 4:3-10 - Compare All Versions

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Even jackals offer their breasts to nurse their young, but my people have become heartless like ostriches in the desert. Because of thirst the infant’s tongue sticks to the roof of its mouth; the children beg for bread, but no one gives it to them. Those who once ate delicacies are destitute in the streets. Those brought up in royal purple now lie on ash heaps. The punishment of my people is greater than that of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment without a hand turned to help her. Their princes were brighter than snow and whiter than milk, their bodies more ruddy than rubies, their appearance like lapis lazuli. But now they are blacker than soot; they are not recognized in the streets. Their skin has shriveled on their bones; it has become as dry as a stick. Those killed by the sword are better off than those who die of famine; racked with hunger, they waste away for lack of food from the field. With their own hands compassionate women have cooked their own children, who became their food when my people were destroyed.

Even jackals offer the breast; they nurse their young; but the daughter of my people has become cruel, like the ostriches in the wilderness. The tongue of the nursing infant sticks to the roof of its mouth for thirst; the children beg for food, but no one gives to them. Those who once feasted on delicacies perish in the streets; those who were brought up in purple embrace ash heaps. For the chastisement of the daughter of my people has been greater than the punishment of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment, and no hands were wrung for her. Her princes were purer than snow, whiter than milk; their bodies were more ruddy than coral, the beauty of their form was like sapphire. Now their face is blacker than soot; they are not recognized in the streets; their skin has shriveled on their bones; it has become as dry as wood. Happier were the victims of the sword than the victims of hunger, who wasted away, pierced by lack of the fruits of the field. The hands of compassionate women have boiled their own children; they became their food during the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Even the jackals feed their young, but not my people Israel. They ignore their children’s cries, like ostriches in the desert. The parched tongues of their little ones stick to the roofs of their mouths in thirst. The children cry for bread, but no one has any to give them. The people who once ate the richest foods now beg in the streets for anything they can get. Those who once wore the finest clothes now search the garbage dumps for food. The guilt of my people is greater than that of Sodom, where utter disaster struck in a moment and no hand offered help. Our princes once glowed with health— brighter than snow, whiter than milk. Their faces were as ruddy as rubies, their appearance like fine jewels. But now their faces are blacker than soot. No one recognizes them in the streets. Their skin sticks to their bones; it is as dry and hard as wood. Those killed by the sword are better off than those who die of hunger. Starving, they waste away for lack of food from the fields. Tenderhearted women have cooked their own children. They have eaten them to survive the siege.

Even jackals offer their breasts to nurse their young, but my dear people have become cruel like ostriches  in the wilderness. The nursing baby’s tongue clings to the roof of his mouth from thirst.  Infants beg for food, but no one gives them any. Those who used to eat delicacies are destitute in the streets; those who were reared in purple garments  huddle in trash heaps. The punishment of my dear people is greater than that of Sodom,  which was overthrown in an instant without a hand laid on it. Her dignitaries were brighter than snow, whiter than milk; their bodies  were more ruddy than coral, their appearance like lapis lazuli. Now they appear darker than soot;  they are not recognized in the streets. Their skin has shriveled on their bones; it has become dry like wood. Those slain by the sword are better off than those slain by hunger, who waste away, pierced with pain because the fields lack produce. The hands of compassionate women have cooked their own children;  they became their food during the destruction of my dear people.

Even the sea monsters draw out the breast, They give suck to their young ones: The daughter of my people is become cruel, Like the ostriches in the wilderness. The tongue of the sucking child cleaveth To the roof of his mouth for thirst: The young children ask bread, And no man breaketh it unto them. They that did feed delicately Are desolate in the streets: They that were brought up In scarlet embrace dunghills. For the punishment of the iniquity of the daughter of my people is greater Than the punishment of the sin of Sodom, That was overthrown as in a moment, And no hands stayed on her. Her Nazarites were purer than snow, They were whiter than milk, They were more ruddy in body than rubies, Their polishing was of sapphire: Their visage is blacker than a coal; They are not known in the streets: Their skin cleaveth to their bones; It is withered, it is become like a stick. They that be slain with the sword Are better than they that be slain with hunger: For these pine away, stricken Through for want of the fruits of the field. The hands of the pitiful women Have sodden their own children: They were their meat In the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Even the jackals present their breasts To nurse their young; But the daughter of my people is cruel, Like ostriches in the wilderness. The tongue of the infant clings To the roof of its mouth for thirst; The young children ask for bread, But no one breaks it for them. Those who ate delicacies Are desolate in the streets; Those who were brought up in scarlet Embrace ash heaps. The punishment of the iniquity of the daughter of my people Is greater than the punishment of the sin of Sodom, Which was overthrown in a moment, With no hand to help her! Her Nazirites were brighter than snow And whiter than milk; They were more ruddy in body than rubies, Like sapphire in their appearance. Now their appearance is blacker than soot; They go unrecognized in the streets; Their skin clings to their bones, It has become as dry as wood. Those slain by the sword are better off Than those who die of hunger; For these pine away, Stricken for lack of the fruits of the field. The hands of the compassionate women Have cooked their own children; They became food for them In the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Even wild jackals nurture their babies, give them their breasts to suckle. But my people have turned cruel to their babies, like an ostrich in the wilderness. Babies have nothing to drink. Their tongues stick to the roofs of their mouths. Little children ask for bread but no one gives them so much as a crust. People used to the finest cuisine forage for food in the streets. People used to the latest in fashions pick through the trash for something to wear. The evil guilt of my dear people was worse than the sin of Sodom— The city was destroyed in a flash, and no one around to help. The splendid and sacred nobles once glowed with health. Their bodies were robust and ruddy, their beards like carved stone. But now they are smeared with soot, unrecognizable in the street, Their bones sticking out, their skin dried out like old leather. Better to have been killed in battle than killed by starvation. Better to have died of battle wounds than to slowly starve to death. Nice and kindly women boiled their own children for supper. This was the only food in town when my dear people were broken.

Even jackals offer the breast, They nurse their young; But the daughter of my people has proved herself cruel, Like ostriches in the wilderness. The tongue of the infant clings To the roof of its mouth because of thirst; The children ask for bread, But no one breaks it for them. Those who used to eat delicacies Are made to tremble in the streets; Those who were raised in crimson clothing Embrace garbage heaps. For the wrongdoing 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. Her consecrated ones were purer than snow, They shined more than milk; They were more ruddy in body than pearls of coral, Their form was like lapis lazuli. Their appearance is darker than soot, They are not recognized in the streets; Their skin is shriveled on their bones, It is dry, it has become like wood. Better off are those killed by the sword Than those killed by hunger; For they waste away, stricken By the lack of the produce of the field. The hands of compassionate women Boiled their own children; They became food for them Due to the destruction of the daughter of my people.

Even the jackals offer the breast, They nurse their young; But the daughter of my people has become cruel Like ostriches in the wilderness [that desert their young]. The tongue of the infant clings To the roof of its mouth because of thirst; The little ones ask for food, But no one gives it to them. Those who feasted on delicacies Are perishing in the streets; Those reared in purple [as nobles] Embrace ash heaps. For the [punishment of the] wickedness of the daughter of my people [Jerusalem] Is greater than the [punishment for the] sin of Sodom, Which was overthrown in a moment, And no hands were turned toward her [to offer help]. [Gen 19:25] Her princes were purer than snow, They were whiter than milk [in appearance]; They were more ruddy in body than rubies, Their polishing was like lapis lazuli (sapphire). Their appearance is [now] blacker than soot [because of the prolonged famine]; They are not recognized in the streets; Their skin clings to their bones; It is withered, and it has become [dry] like wood. Those killed with the sword Are more fortunate than those killed with hunger; For the hungry pine and ebb away, For the lack of the fruits of the field. The hands of compassionate women Boiled their own children; They became food for them Because of the destruction of the daughter of my people [Judah].

Even the jackals nurse their young at their breast, but my people are cruel, like ostriches in the desert. ד (Dalet) The infant’s tongue sticks to the roof of its mouth due to thirst; little children beg for bread, but no one gives them even a morsel. ה (He) Those who once feasted on delicacies are now starving to death in the streets. Those who grew up wearing expensive clothes are now dying amid garbage. ו (Vav) The punishment of my people exceeded that of of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment with no one to help her. ז (Zayin) Her consecrated ones were brighter than snow, whiter than milk; their bodies more ruddy than corals, their hair like lapis lazuli. ח (Khet) Now their appearance is darker than soot; they are not recognized in the streets. Their skin has shriveled on their bones; it is dried up, like tree bark. ט (Tet) Those who died by the sword are better off than those who die of hunger, those who waste away, struck down from lack of food. י (Yod) The hands of tenderhearted women cooked their own children, who became their food, when my people were destroyed. כ (Kaf)