Alongside Babylon's streams,
there we sat down, crying because we remembered Zion.
We hung our lyres up in the trees there
because that's where our captors asked us to sing;
our tormentors requested songs of joy:
"Sing us a song about Zion!" they said.
But how could we possibly sing the LORD's song on foreign soil?
Jerusalem! If I forget you,
let my strong hand wither!
Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth
if I don't remember you,
if I don't make Jerusalem my greatest joy.
LORD, remember what the Edomites did
on Jerusalem's dark day:
"Rip it down, rip it down!
All the way to its foundations" they yelled.
Daughter Babylon, you destroyer,
a blessing on the one who pays you back
the very deed you did to us!
A blessing on the one who seizes your children
and smashes them against the rock!
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