Ghosts of reminiscences, Jerusalem—destitute and displaced
She, summons these precious tokens of days of old
When her people fell into the the enemy’s grip—no hand to stay
Her enemy standing, sneering at her fall
Her own grievous sin makes Jerusalem defiled
Those who adored now abhor; the lovers loathe
For they have seen her nude, stripped, exposed
And she sobbing shrinks away
In crimson streaks her uncleanness drips from hem
From not considering the issue of guilt
Her drop shocks away all comforters, no one for her
“Look! YHWH on my condition—my enemies rise”
Jerusalem’s treasures snatched by the palms of her foes
She suffered horror as the goyim penetrated her sacred place
Those whom you had commanded
That they should not enter your place of meeting
Keenly searching for crumbs of bread, all her people sob
They have betrayed their treasures in lieu of life, of food
“Look YHWH! Perceive what I have become!
Squandered, despised, worthless, spent.
Look! You who pass on the road! Perceive!
It is nothing to you, you who lightly pass me by?
Could there be any pain like mine, which has afflicted me
—with which YHWH has afflicted me in his wrath?
(While this translation is my own and takes some liberties in an effort to recapture the evocative nature of the original Hebrew text, the allusions present in this translation are present in the original text, and not my own creation.)