Along the rivers in Babylon, * there we sat; * loudly we wept, * when we remembered you, Zion!

Along the shade trees in her midst * we hung up our harps.

    For there our captors demanded of us * words of song,

    and our mockers songs of gladness: * “Sing for us a song of Zion!”

    Oh how could we sing Yahweh's song * upon alien soil?

        Should I forget you, Jerusalem, * let my right hand wither!

        Let my tongue stick to my palate, * should I remember you not,

        if I do not raise you, Jerusalem, * upon my head in celebration!

    Remember Yahweh, O sons of Edom, * for the day of Jerusalem,

    when you said, “Strip her, strip her, * to the foundation!”

O Daughter Babylon, you devastator, * blest he who repays you * the evil you have done to us!

Blest he who seizes and dashes * your infants against the rock!