At the corner of every street your people collapse from weakness; they are like deer caught in a hunter's net. They have felt the force of God's anger.

When I did not confess my sins, I was worn out from crying all day long.

Day and night you punished me, LORD; my strength was completely drained, as moisture is dried up by the summer heat.

I am worn out and utterly crushed; my heart is troubled, and I groan with pain.

They have not prayed to me sincerely, but instead they throw themselves down and wail as the heathen do. When they pray for grain and wine, they gash themselves like pagans. What rebels they are!

My voice was thin and weak, And I moaned like a dove. My eyes grew tired from looking to heaven. LORD, rescue me from all this trouble.

I go about in gloom, without any sunshine; I stand up in public and plead for help.

My voice is as sad and lonely as the cries of a jackal or an ostrich.

We hoped for peace and a time of healing, but it was no use; terror came instead.

I wish my head were a well of water, and my eyes a fountain of tears, so that I could cry day and night for my people who have been killed.

Some will escape to the mountains like doves frightened from the valleys. All of them will moan over their sins.

Surely he is ready to save those who honor him, and his saving presence will remain in our land.

The wicked will not be saved, for they do not obey your laws.