Thursday, April 25, 2019

Take Our Daughters And Sons To Work Day, 2019

Ranch kids at work.  Not because it was take them to work day, but because they're ranch kids.

Today is National Take Our Daughters And Sons To Work Day for 2019.

I don't think this day is observed as much as it was, at least in the press, as it was a few years ago.  I'm not sure what that means. Times have been rather odd for the past few years and perhaps that has something to do with it, or perhaps not.

One of the great, and actually truthful, career recruiting posters.


At any rate, I have to wonder how many people even have occupations where they can really do this.  I don't, and it's not like I'm operating heavy machinery.  It just wouldn't be practicable until your kids were old enough to know more or less what you do anyway.

Not that I haven't done this on odd occasion, the most notable of which is when my son traveled with me to an argument in Tribal Court some years ago.  And they stop in from time to time for one reason or another.  And, I suspect, like all children of trial lawyers, they hear a lot of practiced debates and see their lawyer parent working from home.

Of course, they've been exposed a lot to ranch work as well, which brings me I suppose to my point. That participation is not in a "take your . . .to work", but work.

It's an odd world we live in now in which by and large our kids don't really see us work.  It's part of the transition of the Industrial Revolution and the migration of people from the rural to the urban.  And as that's occurred, work has become very self isolating.  Most people spend at least a third of their day working, usually more, five days out of seven.  In the United States, where work has a manic level of devotion, a lot of people spend more time there than that. And as they do that, they associate themselves with their coworkers, some of whom are their friends, if they are lucky, but many of whom are just people they meet at work.  


And most modern work isn't fun.  It's interesting how that well known fact.  Forbes Magazine has called the line "It's not supposed to be fun, that's why they call it work", a "Business Lie", but for many people it isn't.  Young people are counseled to find careers that they will love, but at least if people who keep statistics on it are correct, most don't.

Now, this isn't to say that some don't, and it isn't to say that the counselling is bad.  What it might be is to say that a lot of career field propaganda is just that, propaganda.  People are coaxed into "fun and exciting careers in. . . ", when they aren't all that fun or exciting.

Of course, a lot of people simply fall into a career as well, they start off to be African Underwater Ornithology Scientist but things happen and they end up the IT guy at Big Boxes Dun Be Us, Dude.  Life has always been that way, and there's not much you can really say about that.  Early planning and changes in it have long term consequences.

Which is a good reason that careers and those in them shouldn't lie about them, and why society at large shouldn't do the same and encourage misdirection. But both do.  There's the common American story that you can be whatever you want, at any age, and have it all.  None of that is true, but the first statement is closest to true.  The second and third are absolute bald faced lies.

So too are the numerous statements individual careers make about themselves.  For odd reasons, we subscribe here to the New Zealand Air Force's magazine, and I love it. For one thing, I like airplanes. But to read the issue the RNZAF is the Royal New Zealand Fun Corps and you'd be left with the impression that the RNZAF does nothing but fun and games at government expense all day long, with an occasional break to rescue kittens.

My exposure to other careers is fairly broad because one of my occupations, my day job so to speak, exposes me to a pile of other ones.  That makes it pretty plain that some careers are a lot more honest about their natures than others.  The military is semi honest, but rarely is it fully honest that its job is to kill people and break things in service of the nation.  

Rhodesian bush war era recruiting poster.  "[I]nteresting and varied career. . . "?  Well, maybe, in a way.

Oddly enough, because it receives so much criticism for its "romanticism", agriculture, particularly ranching, is extremely close to its public image.  Whether you would like doing it or not, the way cowboys are portrayed is surprisingly close to what its like to actually do the job, right down to the outdoor work in all weather, being around animals, and the low pay.  If you've seen the movie The Cowboys, you actually have a decent concept of what cowboys actually do.  Perhaps that's why nearly 100% of the adults I've found who in agriculture absolutely love it. They knew what they were getting into when they got into it.  And perhaps that's why I've also observed that a lot of young people who move off the ranch to go into other careers, come back around and back onto the ranch after their exposed to the fabrication of what other careers are like, or they work in those other careers for decades attempting to get back into what they left.


The law is notorious about lying about the nature of its career to outsiders.  Law schools like to put out the absolute nonsense that "you can do a lot of things with a law degree".  You can, as long as all of those things are practicing law.  Otherwise, a law degree is about as broad as a diesel mechanics certificate.  You can do a lot of thing with that as well, as long as they all involve diesel engines.  That's not bad if that's exactly what you expected to do, and you knew the actual nature of the work and what it entailed.

Romantic?  I've seen this actually happen.

Of course, part of what work entails involves what its like to actually experience it, and that's really hard to explain.  People like depictions of certain activities, including some of them which are in fact careers or occupations, but that doesn't mean that they would actually like to experience them.  To give a rather extreme example, I like watching what's depicted in Saving Private Ryan, but that doesn't mean I'd want to experience it.  Not really.  That's often forgotten.  People actually join the military because they've watched military films and been enthralled.  The character portrayed, for example, in Born On The Fourth Of July claimed that he joined the Vietnam era Marines after watching John Wayne films such as The Sands of Iwo Jima.  Taking that at face value, it would have been wise to recall that John Wayne was an actor, not an actual Marine, and his character, Sgt. Stryker, is killed in the film.  Indeed, there's piles of death in the film.

Lawyer researching the law.  What doesn't come across is that he may be researching a desperate cause in which his client has pinned all his hopes on this research and it looks really bad.

The same is more or less true of other professions. To use the law as an example again, watching a movie about a trial, such as The Verdict, Anatomy Of A Murder, or A Civil Action, or even A Few Good Men, may be enthralling but that doesn't really mean that you'd really enjoy the high stress of being a trial lawyer.  Maybe you would. But before you engage in it, you ought to appreciate whether you endure high stress well or not.  But it's frankly nearly impossible to appreciate that without experiencing it, and a lot of folks don't until they're in the situation.  

All of these factors have been around for men at least from the point where some fellow left his peasant village in Paderborn Westphalia and headed off to the university in some Medieval town, but I think the added factor, and difficulty, is that its now been foisted upon women.  That may sound like an odd thing to say, but since World War Two we've gone from a world in which most women worked at home, but could have some kind of job, to one where they could have careers if they wanted, to one where carers are now demanded of them.  With that has been the whole absurd Cosmopolitan line that "you can have it all", which wasn't ever true of any occupation to start with.  Every occupation, even the one that's absolutely the best for you individually, entails compromises and generations of acclimation or perhaps genetic predisposition predisposes men to that reality.  It hasn't really done that for women which means that the uploaded expectations are necessarily met with massive failure in realization.  Added to that is the several decades long abandonment of male responsibility in general which leaves many women with the choice to either occupy the traditional role of mother alone while also working, or forgo it entirely, and their burdens have been increased enormously.  At least recently, although ironically coincident with their being pushed into traditional male roles where they're often subsequently sexually exploited, there's also been a return to allowing for them to assume a more traditional role if they wish.  By the late 1970s and through the 1980s there was massive social ridicule if they wished to attempt that.


Of course, part of the problem here is that society is now so geared to this that it's almost impossible for society at large to imagine anything else.  Trades jobs go unfilled as the young are pushed away from them.  People are pushed from local jobs to ones in big cities far away.  A student loan system has been created to fund the pursuit of degrees that are known to be unlikely to result in employment, and currently its faddish in the Democratic Party to suggest that this system should be expanded into one in which the taxpayers at large will fund that on a society wide level.

So, it's take your daughters and sons to work day for 2019.  But be honest.  And kids. . . choose well.

April 25, 1919. Anzac Day, J'Accuse, Canadians return.


On this day in 1919, the French film J'Accuse was released.  

J'Accuse can legitimately be regarded as one of the very first anti war movies ever made.  The message of the film was made all the more potent by the fact that the director had used actual French soldiers for its filming while the war was still on.  Reportedly 80% of the soldier extras in the film were killed in action before the war was over.

The movie famously features the ghosts of the dead in accusation, but it also features a somewhat complicated betrayal by a love interest plot fairly typical of early films.

Also on this day, Australian soldiers marched for ANZAC Day parades in several cities, but those in Sidney were cancelled due to the Spanish Flu.  Contrary to widespread popular claim, this was not the first ANZAC Day. The official date had been established in 1916.  This was the first post war ANZAC Day.

While Empire troops were marching in Australia, they were arriving in New York on their way home to Canada as well.

Canadian officers Sir Henry Worth Thornton (president of the Canadian National Railway in civilian life) and Air Commodore Alfred Cecil Critchley arriving in New York City on the Aquitania.  Both general officers are wearing classic examples of British officer dress.

The troop ship Aquitania arrived with Canadian soldiers on their way home, greeted by at least one British dignitary.

Gen. Thornton with Sir James Benjamin Bell, Timber Comptroller for the British government.

Ranger Texas, April 25, 1919.

Ranger Texas was photographed.

Ranger was where famous western historian Walter Prescott Webb went to school, being from a nearby farm.

Earth Day, 2019



Monday, April 22, was Earth Day.  This is my belated Earth Day post.

It occurs to me that almost all of our problems in the Western world are due to assaults on nature.  But that doesn't mean what you may at first think it does.  Indeed, a lot of people who may be inclined to cheer that sentiment, at first, are primary in assaulting nature.

I'm not going to get into a big long post on one environmental topic or another.  Not at all.  But it's clear that in the Western world, we're assaulting nature and starting off with assaulting our own natures.  We are emphasizing the unnatural in innumerable ways, from diets that don't comport with our natures, to confusing chemistry with food production in frightening and developing ways, to views on nature and nature's animals that are deeply unnatural, to views on our own selves that are highly unnatural, to chemical and surgical alternations of our natural selves.

That may not seem to have much to do with Earth Day, but it does.  Do really appreciate nature, you have to be part of it.  And to be part of it, you can't deny it.

Wednesday, April 24, 2019


April 24, 1919. Oil Town, 130th Field Artillery arrives, Well Dressed Students

Burkburnett Texas, April 24, 1919.

On this day in 1919, Burkburnett Texas got a formal portrait.  Seems like the oilfield was a bit close.

Officers of the 130th.  The officer on the left, as viewed, is carrying a sidearm with that sidearm being a revolver, probably one of the two M1917 revolver types issued during World War One.  Why he's under arms is unclear, unless of course the revolver is one that he owns, in which case it wouldn't have been a M1917.  He's also wearing private purchase "trench boots", high leather boots, rather than the official issue field boots.  Private purchase boots were common for officers.  The officer next to him wears the regulation leather puttees that were common for artillerymen.

The 130th Field Artillery, part of the 35th Division and an artillery unit made up of Kansas National Guardsmen, arrived in New York on April 23 aboard the Mobile.  the Bain News Service published its photographs of the unit on April 24.



The student staff of the Wyoming Student was photographed for this issue of their paper.  

The Wyoming Student was the paper that became The Branding Iron, the student newspaper today and for many years.  The presentation was quite a bit different, with the presentation both then and now being pretty good.  What surprised me about this issue, and why I put it up, was the high standard of dress exhibited by the student staff.  I don't think this would be repeated in a paper today, as I don't think you could find that many young men who owned suits.  Quite a change in a century.


Sunday, April 21, 2019

April 21, 1919. Des Moines river front, Red Cross councils, Victory Loan Drive.

Des Moines, Iowa riverfront.  April 21, 1919.

Officers and War Council of the American Red Cross, including President Wilson and former President Taft.

President Wilson was photographed with Red Cross dignitaries, including former President Taft, on this day in 1919.  Most of the men photographed were wearing frock coats, which remained full daily formal wear at that time (they weren't the equivalent of tuxedos) even as Edwardian suits were coming in.  The latter were regarded as less formal.

American hospital ward in France, April 21, 1919.

Of course, a lot of men were still in France.

American engineers in France.

Some of the men back were participating in a big Victory Loan drive which was kicking off in earnest on this Monday.

Victory Loan Parade, Seattle Washington.



Sunday Morning Scene: Churches of the East: Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France

Churches of the East: Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France

Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France


















Sunday Morning Scene: Churches of the East: Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France

Churches of the East: Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France

Notre Dame de Paris, Paris France


How deserted she sits, the city once thronged with people! Once the greatest of nations, she is now like a widow. Once the princess of states, she is now put to forced labour.
All night long she is weeping, tears running down her cheeks. Not one of all her lovers remains to comfort her. Her friends have all betrayed her and become her enemies.
Judah has gone into exile after much pain and toil. Living among the nations she finds no respite; her persecutors all overtake her where there is no way out.
Her foes now have the upper hand, her enemies prosper, for Yahweh has made her suffer for her many, many crimes; her children have gone away into captivity driven in front of the oppressor.
And from the daughter of Zion all her splendour has departed. Her princes were like stags which could find no pasture, exhausted, as they flee before the hunter.
Jerusalem remembers her days of misery and distress; when her people fell into the enemy's clutches there was no one to help her. Her enemies looked on and laughed at her downfall.
Jerusalem has sinned so gravely that she has become a thing unclean. All who used to honour her despise her, having seen her nakedness; she herself groans aloud and turns her face away.
Her filth befouls her skirts -- she never thought to end like this, and hence her astonishing fall with no one to comfort her. Yahweh, look at my misery, for the enemy is triumphant!
The enemy stretched out his hand for everything she treasured; she saw the heathen enter her sanctuary, whom you had forbidden to enter your Assembly.
All her people are groaning, looking for something to eat; they have bartered their treasures for food, to keep themselves alive. Look, Yahweh, and consider how despised I am!
All you who pass this way, look and see: is any sorrow like the sorrow inflicted on me, with which Yahweh struck me on the day of his burning anger?
He sent fire from on high deep into my bones; he stretched a net for my feet, he pulled me back; he left me shattered, sick all day long.
He has watched out for my offences, with his hand he enmeshes me, his yoke is on my neck, he has deprived me of strength. The Lord has put me into clutches which I am helpless to resist.
The Lord has rejected all my warriors within my walls, he has summoned a host against me to crush my young men; in the winepress the Lord trampled the young daughter of Judah.
And that is why I weep; my eyes stream with water, since a comforter who could revive me is far away. My children are shattered, for the enemy has proved too strong.
Zion stretches out her hands, with no one to comfort her. Yahweh has commanded Jacob's enemies to surround him; they treat Jerusalem as though she were unclean.
Yahweh is in the right, for I rebelled against his command. Listen, all you peoples, and see my sorrow. My young girls and my young men have gone into captivity.
I called to my lovers; they failed me. My priests and my elders expired in the city, as they searched for food to keep themselves alive.
Look, Yahweh. I am in distress! My inmost being is in ferment; my heart turns over inside me -- how rebellious I have been! Outside, the sword bereaves; inside it is like death.
Listen, for I am groaning, with no one to comfort me. All my enemies have heard of my disaster, they are glad about what you have done. Bring the Day you once foretold, so that they may be like me!
Let all their wickedness come before you, and treat them as you have treated me for all my crimes; numberless are my groans, and I am sick at heart.
In his anger, with what darkness has the Lord enveloped the daughter of Zion! He has flung the beauty of Israel from heaven to the ground, without regard for his footstool on the day of his anger.
The Lord pitilessly engulfed all the homes of Jacob; in his fury he tore down the fortresses of the daughter of Judah; he threw to the ground, he desecrated the kingdom and its princes.
In his burning anger he broke all the might of Israel, withdrew his protecting right hand at the coming of the enemy, and blazed against Jacob like a fire that burns up everything near it.
Like an enemy he bent his bow, and his right hand held firm; like a foe he slaughtered all those who were a delight to see; on the tent of the daughter of Zion he poured out his fury like fire.
The Lord behaved like an enemy; he engulfed Israel, he engulfed all its citadels, he destroyed its fortresses and for the daughter of Judah multiplied weeping on wailing.
He wrecked his domain like a garden, destroyed his assembly-points, Yahweh erased the memory of festivals and Sabbaths in Zion; in the heat of his anger he treated king and priest with contempt.
The Lord has rejected his altar, he has come to loathe his sanctuary and has given her palace walls into the clutches of the enemy; from the uproar they made in Yahweh's temple it might have been a festival day!
Yahweh has resolved to destroy the walls of the daughter of Zion, stretching out the line, not staying his hand until he has engulfed everything, thus bringing mourning on wall and rampart; alike they crumbled.
Her gates have sunk into the ground; he has broken and shattered their bars. Her king and her princes are among the gentiles, there is no instruction, furthermore her prophets cannot find any vision from Yahweh.
Mute, they sit on the ground, the elders of the daughter of Zion; they have put dust on their heads and wrapped themselves in sackcloth. The young girls of Jerusalem bow their heads to the ground.
My eyes are worn out with weeping, my inmost being is in ferment, my heart plummets at the destruction of my young people, as the children and babies grow faint in the streets of the city.
They keep saying to their mothers, 'Where is some food?' as they faint like wounded men in the streets of the city, as they breathe their last on their mothers' breasts.
To what can I compare or liken you, daughter of Jerusalem? Who can rescue and comfort you, young daughter of Zion? For huge as the sea is your ruin: who can heal you?
The visions your prophets had for you were deceptive whitewash; they did not lay bare your guilt so as to change your fortunes: the visions they told you were deceptive.
All who pass your way clap their hands at the sight; they whistle and shake their heads over the daughter of Jerusalem, 'Is this the city they call Perfection of Beauty, the joy of the whole world?'
Your enemies open their mouths in chorus against you; they whistle and grind their teeth; they say, 'We have swallowed her up. This is the day we were waiting for; at last we have seen it!'
Yahweh has done what he planned, has carried out his threat, as he ordained long ago: he has destroyed without pity, increasing the might of your foes -- and letting your foes get the credit.
Cry then to the Lord, rampart of the daughter of Zion; let your tears flow like a torrent, day and night; allow yourself no respite, give your eyes no rest!
Up, cry out in the night-time as each watch begins! Pour your heart out like water in Yahweh's presence! Raise your hands to him for the lives of your children (who faint with hunger at the end of every street)!
Look, Yahweh, and consider: whom have you ever treated like this? Should women eat their little ones, the children they have nursed? Should priest and prophet be slaughtered in the Lord's sanctuary?
Children and old people are lying on the ground in the streets; my young men and young girls have fallen by the sword; you have killed them, on the day of your anger, you have slaughtered them pitilessly.
As though to a festival you called together terrors from all sides, so that, on the day of Yahweh's anger, none escaped and none survived. Those whom I had nursed and reared, my enemy has annihilated them all.
I am the man familiar with misery under the rod of his fury.
He has led and guided me into darkness, not light.
Against none but me does he turn his hand, again and again, all day.
He has wasted my flesh and skin away, has broken my bones.
He has besieged me and made hardship a circlet round my head.
He has forced me to dwell where all is dark, like those long-dead in their everlasting home.
He has walled me in so that I cannot escape; he has weighed me down with chains;
even when I shout for help, he shuts out my prayer.
He has closed my way with blocks of stone, he has obstructed my paths.
For me he is a lurking bear, a lion in hiding.
Heading me off, he has torn me apart, leaving me shattered.
He has bent his bow and used me as a target for his arrows.
He has shot deep into me with shafts from his quiver.
I have become a joke to all my own people, their refrain all day long.
He has given me my fill of bitterness, he has made me drunk with wormwood.
He has broken my teeth with gravel, he has fed me on ashes.
I have been deprived of peace, I have forgotten what happiness is
and thought, 'My lasting hope in Yahweh is lost.'
Bring to mind my misery and anguish; it is wormwood and gall!
My heart dwells on this continually and sinks within me.
This is what I shall keep in mind and so regain some hope:
Surely Yahweh's mercies are not over, his deeds of faithful love not exhausted;
every morning they are renewed; great is his faithfulness!
'Yahweh is all I have,' I say to myself, 'and so I shall put my hope in him.'
Yahweh is good to those who trust him, to all who search for him.
It is good to wait in silence for Yahweh to save.
It is good for someone to bear the yoke from a young age,
to sit in solitude and silence when it weighs heavy,
to lay one's head in the dust -- maybe there is hope-
to offer one's cheek to the striker, to have one's fill of disgrace!
For the Lord will not reject anyone for ever.
If he brings grief, he will have pity out of the fullness of his faithful love,
for it is not for his own pleasure that he torments and grieves the human race.
When all the prisoners in a country are crushed underfoot,
when human rights are overridden in defiance of the Most High,
when someone is cheated of justice, does not the Lord see it?
Who has only to speak and it is so done? Who commands, if not the Lord?
From where, if not from the mouth of the Most High, do evil and good come?
Why then should anyone complain? Better to be bold against one's sins.
Let us examine our path, let us ponder it and return to Yahweh.
Let us raise our hearts and hands to God in heaven.
We are the ones who have sinned, who have rebelled, and you have not forgiven.
You have enveloped us in anger, pursuing us, slaughtering without pity.
You have wrapped yourself in a cloud too thick for prayer to pierce.
You have reduced us to rubbish and refuse among the nations.
Our enemies open their mouths in chorus against us.
Terror and pitfall have been our lot, ravage and ruin.
My eyes dissolve in torrents of tears at the ruin of my beloved people.
My eyes will weep ceaselessly, without relief,
until Yahweh looks down and sees from heaven.
My eyes have grown sore over all the daughters of my city.
Unprovoked, my enemies hunted me down like a bird.
They shut me finally in a pit, they closed me in with a stone.
The waters rose over my head; I thought, 'I am lost!'
Yahweh, I called on your name from the deep pit.
You heard my voice, do not close your ear to my prayer, to my cry.
You are near when I call to you. You said, 'Do not be afraid!'
Lord, you defended my cause, you have redeemed my life.
Yahweh, you have seen the wrong done to me, grant me redress.
You have seen their vindictiveness, all their plots against me.
You have heard their insults, Yahweh, all their plots against me,
the whispering and murmuring of my enemies against me all day long.
Look, whether they sit or stand, I am their refrain.
Yahweh, repay them as their deeds deserve.
Lay hardness of heart as your curse on them.
Angrily pursue them, root them out from under your heavens!
How the gold has tarnished, how the fine gold has changed! The sacred stones lie scattered at the corner of every street.
The children of Zion, as precious as finest gold -- to think that they should now be reckoned like crockery made by a potter!
The very jackals give the breast, and suckle their young: but the daughter of my people is as cruel as the ostriches of the desert.
The tongue of the baby at the breast sticks to its palate for thirst; little children ask for bread, no one gives them any.
Those who used to eat only the best, now lie dying in the streets; those who were reared in the purple claw at the rubbish heaps,
for the wickedness of the daughter of my people exceeded the sins of Sodom, which was overthrown in a moment without a hand being laid on it.
Once her young people were brighter than snow, whiter than milk; rosier than coral their bodies, their hue like sapphire.
Now their faces are blacker than soot, they are not recognised in the streets, the skin has shrunk over their bones, as dry as a stick.
Happier those killed by the sword than those killed by famine: they waste away, sunken for lack of the fruits of the earth.
With their own hands, kindly women cooked their children; this was their food when the daughter of my people was ruined.
Yahweh indulged his fury, he vented his fierce anger, he lit a fire in Zion which devoured her foundations.
The kings of the earth never believed, nor did any of the inhabitants of the world, that foe or enemy would ever penetrate the gates of Jerusalem.
Owing to the sins of her prophets and the crimes of her priests, who had shed the blood of the upright, in the heart of the city,
they wandered blindly through the streets, polluted with blood, so that no one dared to touch their clothes.
'Keep away! Unclean!' people shouted, 'Keep away! Keep away! Don't touch!' If they left and fled to the nations, they were not allowed to stay there either.
The face of Yahweh destroyed them, he will look on them no more. There was no respect for the priests, no deference for the elders.
Continually we were wearing out our eyes, watching for help -- in vain. From our towers we watched for a nation which could not save us anyway.
Men dogged our steps, to keep us out of our streets. Our end was near, our days were done, our end had come.
Our pursuers were swifter than eagles in the sky; they hounded our steps through the mountains, they lay in ambush for us in the wilds.
The breath of our nostrils, Yahweh's anointed, was caught in their traps, he of whom we said, 'In his shadow we shall live among the nations.'
Rejoice, exult, daughter of Edom, you who reside in Uz! To you in turn the cup will pass; you will get drunk and strip yourself naked!
Your wickedness is atoned for, daughter of Zion, he will never banish you again. But your wickedness, daughter of Edom, will he punish, your sins he will lay bare!
Yahweh, remember what has happened to us; consider, and see our degradation.
Our heritage has passed to strangers, our homes to foreigners.
We are orphans, we are fatherless; our mothers are like widows.
We have to buy our own water to drink, our own wood we can get only at a price.
The yoke is on our necks; we are persecuted; exhausted we are, allowed no rest.
We made a pact with Egypt, with Assyria, to have plenty of food.
Our ancestors sinned; they are no more, and we bear the weight of their guilt.
Slaves rule us; there is no one to rescue us from their clutches.
At peril of our lives we earn our bread, by risking the sword of the desert.
Our skin is as hot as an oven, from the scorch of famine.
The women in Zion have been raped, the young girls in the towns of Judah.
Princes have been hanged by their hands; the face of the old has won no respect.
Youths have been put to the mill, boys stagger under loads of wood.
The elders have deserted the gateway; the young have given up their music.
Joy has vanished from our hearts; our dancing has turned to mourning.
The crown has fallen from our heads. Alas that ever we sinned!
This is why our hearts are sick; this is why our eyes are dim:
because Mount Zion is desolate; jackals roam to and fro on it.
Yet you, Yahweh, rule from eternity; your throne endures from age to age.
Why do you never remember us? Why do you abandon us so long?
Make us come back to you, Yahweh, and we will come back. Restore us as we were before!
Unless you have utterly rejected us, in an anger which knows no limit.

The Book of Lamentations.