9 Be not wroth, O Jehovah, very sore, Nor for ever remember iniquity, Lo, look attentively, we beseech Thee, Thy people 'are' we all.
10 Thy holy cities have been a wilderness, Zion a wilderness hath been, Jerusalem a desolation.
11 Our holy and our beautiful house, Where praise Thee did our fathers, Hath become burnt with fire, And all our desirable things have become a waste.
12 For these dost Thou refrain Thyself, Jehovah? Thou art silent, and dost afflict us very sore!'
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