1How is the gold become dim, Changed the best -- the pure gold? Poured out are stones of the sanctuary At the head of all out-places.
2The precious sons of Zion, Who are comparable with fine gold, How have they been reckoned earthen bottles, Work of the hands of a potter.
3Even dragons have drawn out the breast, They have suckled their young ones, The daughter of my people is become cruel, Like the ostriches in a wilderness.
4Cleaved hath the tongue of a suckling unto his palate with thirst, Infants asked bread, a dealer out they have none.
5Those eating of dainties have been desolate in out-places, Those supported on scarlet have embraced dunghills.
6And greater is the iniquity of the daughter of my people, Than the sin of Sodom, That was overturned as [in] a moment, And no hands were stayed on her.
7Purer were her Nazarites than snow, Whiter than milk, ruddier of body than rubies, Of sapphire their form.
