My harp is tuned to mourning and my flute to the sound of weeping.
Joy has left our hearts; our dancing has turned to mourning.
My heart falters; fear makes me tremble. The twilight I desired has turned to horror.
On that day the Lord GOD of Hosts called for weeping and wailing, for shaven heads and the wearing of sackcloth.
Then the king went to his palace and spent the night fasting. No entertainment was brought before him, and sleep fled fr
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion.
a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance,
The new wine dries up, the vine withers. All the merrymakers now groan.