Chapter 4

A ll dim, now, and discoloured, the gold that once shone so fair! Heaped up at every street-corner lie hallowed stones.

B right they shone once in all their renown, the men of Sion, and now what are they? Little regarded as common earthenware, of the potter’s fashioning.

C ub of jackal1 is fed at its dam’s breast; and has my people grown unnatural towards its own children, like some ostrich in the desert?

D ry throat and parching tongue for babe at the breast; children asking for bread, and never a crust to share with them!

E ver they fared daintily, that now lie starved in the streets; ever went richly arrayed, and now their fingers clutch at the dung-hill.

F aithless Juda! Heavier punishment she must needs undergo than guilty Sodom, that perished all in a moment, and never a blow struck.

G one, the fair bloom of princely cheeks,2 snowy-pure, cream-white, red as tinted ivory,3 and all sapphire-clear;

H ere is no recognizing them, out in the streets, coal-black, skin clinging to bones, dry as wood!

I t were better to have fallen at the sword’s point than yield thus to the stab of hunger, wasted away through famine.

J uda brought low, and mother-love forgotten; that women should eat their own children, cooked with their own hands!

K indled at last is the Lord’s anger; rains down from heaven the storm of his vengeance, lighting a flame that burns Sion to the ground.

L ittle dreamed they, king and common folk the world over, that any assault of the foe should storm Jerusalem gates;

M alice and lawlessness it was of priest and prophet, whereby innocent men came to their deaths, that brought such punishment.

N ow, as they walk blindly through the streets, they are defiled with blood; no help for it, gather their skirts about them as they may;

O ut of my way! cries one to another; Back, pollution, do not touch me! The very Gentiles protest in alarm, Here is no place for them!

P rotection the Lord gives them no longer, they are dispersed under his frown; the priesthood no honour claims, old age no pity.

Q uenched is the hope our eyes strained for, while hope was left us; looking for help so eagerly to a nation that had none to give!

R efuge for us in the treacherous highways is none; we are near the end; all is over, this is the end;

S wifter than flight of eagles the pursuit; even on the mountains they give chase, even in the desert take us by surprise.

T hrough our fault he who is breath of life to us, our anointed king, is led away captive;5 under his shadow we hoped our race should thrive.

U ntil thy turn comes, shout on, Edom, triumph on, land of Hus; the same cup thou too shalt drink, and be drunken, and stripped bare.

V engeful audit-day! Sion’s account closed, recovered her fortunes; Edom called to account, discovered her guilt!