¹¹ And I say, `Till when, O Lord?' And He saith, `Surely till cities have been wasted without inhabitant, And houses without man, And the ground be wasted -- a desolation,

⁷ Your land `is' a desolation, your cities burnt with fire, Your ground, before you strangers are consuming it, And a desolation as overthrown by strangers!

²⁶ And lamented and mourned have her openings, Yea, she hath been emptied, on the earth she sitteth!

³¹ and I have made your cities a waste, and have made desolate your sanctuaries, and I smell not at your sweet fragrances;

⁵ Till when, O Jehovah? art Thou angry for ever? Thy jealousy doth burn as fire.

¹³ Turn back, O Jehovah, till when? And repent concerning Thy servants.

³ Till when `do' the wicked, O Jehovah? Till when do the wicked exult?

¹ Lo, Jehovah is emptying the land, And is making it waste, And hath overturned `it on' its face, And hath scattered its inhabitants.

² And it hath been -- as a people so a priest, As the servant so his master, As the maid-servant so her mistress, As the buyer so the seller, As the lender so the borrower, As the usurer so he who is lifting `it' on himself.

³ Utterly emptied is the land, and utterly spoiled, For Jehovah hath spoken this word:

⁴ Mourned, faded hath the land, Languished, faded hath the world, Languished have they -- the high place of the people of the land.

⁵ And the land hath been defiled under its inhabitants, Because they have transgressed laws, They have changed a statute, They have made void a covenant age-during.

⁶ Therefore a curse hath consumed the land, And the inhabitants in it are become desolate, Therefore consumed have been inhabitants of the land, And few men have been left.

⁷ Mourned hath the new wine, languished the vine, Sighed have all the joyful of heart.

⁸ Ceased hath the joy of tabrets, Ceased hath the noise of exulting ones, Ceased hath the joy of a harp.

⁹ With a song they drink not wine, Bitter is strong drink to those drinking it.

¹⁰ It was broken down -- a city of emptiness, Shut hath been every house from entrance.

¹¹ A cry over the wine `is' in out-places, Darkened hath been all joy, Removed hath been the joy of the land.

¹² Left in the city `is' desolation, And `with' wasting is the gate smitten.

¹⁰ Till when, O God, doth an adversary reproach? Doth an enemy despise thy name for ever?