7 Look! Their very heroes* have cried out in the street; the very messengers* of peace+ will weep bitterly.

19 O my intestines, my intestines! I am in severe pains in the walls of my heart.+ My heart is boisterous within me.+ I cannot keep silent, for the sound of the horn is what my soul has heard, the alarm signal of war.+

26 O daughter of my people, gird on sackcloth+ and wallow in the ashes.+ Make your mourning that for an only [son], the wailing of bitterness;+ because suddenly the despoiler will come upon us.+

9 O that my head were waters, and that my eyes were a source of tears!+ Then I could weep day and night for the slain ones of the daughter of my people.*+

8 On this account I will wail and howl;+ I will walk barefoot and naked.+ I shall make a wailing like the jackals, and a mourning like female ostriches.*