Eicha yashva in ashes six days past
A widow wond’ring weary and forlorn
Will voice of bride and groom resound at last?

The roads were dead where pilgrims once amassed
A city clad in sackcloth could but mourn
For how she sat in ashes six days past.

When children looked to mothers all aghast
And begged for bread, sweet faces heaped in scorn,
Would voice of bride and groom resound at last?

The yoke of our offenses bound us fast
We thought – was this the city once adorned?
Sigh! How she sat in ashes six days past.

Her crown fell off, her enemies had cast
Her to a pit from which she cried, “Forsworn!
Let voice of bride and groom resound at last!”

Now friends and lovers gather in repast
And spread their hands to greet the city’s dawn.
For though she sat in ashes six days past,
Now voice of bride and groom resound at last.