[1] The burden of the valley of vision. What aileth thee now, that thou art wholly gone up to the housetops? [2] of stirs, a tumultuous city, a joyous city: thy slain with the sword, nor dead in battle. [3] All thy rulers are fled together, they are bound by the archers: all that are found in thee are bound together, which have fled from far. [4] Therefore said I, Look away from me; I will weep bitterly, labour not to comfort me, because of the spoiling of the daughter of my people.