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17 Let them come quickly
    and raise for us a dirge,
That our eyes may run with tears,
    our pupils flow with water.(A)
18 The sound of the dirge is heard from Zion:
    We are ruined and greatly ashamed;
We have left the land,
    given up our dwellings!
19 Hear, you women, the word of the Lord,
    let your ears receive the word of his mouth.
Teach your daughters a dirge,
    and each other a lament:
20 Death has come up through our windows,
    has entered our citadels,
To cut down children in the street,
    young people in the squares.(B)
21 Corpses shall fall
    like dung in the open field,
Like sheaves behind the harvester,
    with no one to gather them.

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