A Bird Fleeing From Her Nest Am I

Like a bird chased away from its nest am I.

Become a place of concealment to me!

Conceal me from those oppressing me;

Like a weight sinking down I am.

May those trampling others down perish!

Judge fairly to swiftly execute righteousness;

Haughtiness and pride and empty talk will come to nothing.

O, deep within me I am boisterous with pain.

So, spread out your shoots like mighty trees;

For with my tears I will drench it copiously. 

Rejoicing and joyfulness have been taken away 

And in the orchard there are no songs of joy.

That is why I will weep over the vine of Love.

With my tears I will drench you, O Love, 

Because your summer fruit and harvest have ended.

Like the strumming of a harp, my innermost self quivers.  

But, there will be no songs, no fruitage, no good season.