Wein' über die, die weinen fern in Babel!
Ihr Tempel brach, ihr Land ward, ach! zur Fabel!
Wein', es erstarb der heil'gen Harfe Ton,
Im Haus Jehovah's haust der Spötter Hohn.
Wo wird die blut'gen Füße Juda baden?
Wann wieder Zions Psalm zur Andacht laden?
Wann dringet wieder Israels Gesang
Zu Herzen, die entzückt sein Himmelsglanz?
Ihr armen Pilger, müd' und schmerzbeklommen,
Wie wollt ihr flieh'n, und doch zur Ruhe kommen?
Die Taube hat ihr Nest, der Fuchs die Kluft,
Der Mensch die Heimath -- Jacob nur die Gruft!
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- ENG English (Sharon Krebs) , "Lament", copyright © 2018, (re)printed on this website with kind permission
Researcher for this page: Sharon Krebs
[Senior Associate Editor]This text was added to the website: 2018-06-16
Line count: 12
Word count: 91
Weep for those who weep far away in Babylon!
Their temple broke, their country, alas, became a parable!
Weep, the sound of the holy harp has died away,
In Jehova’s house the scorners' jeers have taken up residence.
Where shall Judah bathe his bleeding feet?
When shall Zion's Psalm again call to worship?
When shall Israel’s song once more penetrate
To hearts that are enraptured by its heavenly radiance?
Ye poor pilgrims, weary and oppressed by pain,
How would you flee, and yet find rest?
The dove has its nest, the fox its crevice,
Mankind its homeland -- Jacob only the sepulchre.
