7. And there is none calling in Thy name, Stirring up himself to lay hold on Thee, For Thou hast hid Thy face from us, And thou meltest us away by our iniquities.
8. And now, O Jehovah, thou [art] our Father, We [are] the clay, and Thou our Framer, And the work of Thy hand--all of us.
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!'