^{9 Ref} And they put it in prison -- in chains, And they bring it unto the king of Babylon, They bring it in unto bulwarks, So that its voice is not heard any more On mountains of Israel.

^{10 Ref} Thy mother `is' as a vine in thy blood by waters planted, Fruitful and full of boughs it hath been, Because of many waters.

^{11 Ref} And it hath strong rods for sceptres of rulers, And high is its stature above thick branches, And it appeareth in its height In the multitude of its thin shoots.

^{12 Ref} And it is plucked up in fury, To the earth it hath been cast, And the east wind hath dried up its fruit, Broken and withered hath been the rod of its strength, Fire hath consumed it.

^{13 Ref} And now -- it is planted in a wilderness, In a land dry and thirsty.

^{14 Ref} And go forth doth fire from a rod of its boughs, Its fruit it hath devoured, And it hath no rod of strength -- a sceptre to rule, Lamentation it `is' -- and it is for a lamentation!'