Ezekiel.
Chapter 19.
“And you, lift up a lamentation to princes of Israel, 
and you have said: What is your mother? A lioness, || She has crouched down among lions, || She has multiplied her whelps in the midst of young lions. 
And she brings up one of her whelps, || He has been a young lion, || And he learns to tear prey, || He has devoured man. 
And nations hear of him, || He has been caught in their pit, || And they bring him to the land of Egypt in chains. 
And as she waited she sees that her hope has perished, || And she takes one of her whelps, || She has made him a young lion. 
And he goes up and down in the midst of lions, || He has been a young lion, || And he learns to tear prey, || He has devoured man. 
And he knows his forsaken habitations, || And he has laid waste to their cities, || And the land and its fullness is desolate, || Because of the voice of his roaring. 
And surrounding nations set against him from the provinces. And they spread out their net for him, || He has been caught in their pit. 
And they put him in prison—in chains, || And they bring him to the king of Babylon, || They bring him into bulwarks, || So that his voice is not heard || On mountains of Israel anymore. 
Your mother, like the vine in your blood, || Is being planted by waters, || She was bearing fruit and full of boughs, || Because of many waters. 
And she has strong rods for scepters of rulers, || And she is high in stature above—between thick branches, || And it appears in its height || In the multitude of its thin shoots. 
And she is plucked up in fury, || She has been cast to the earth, || And the east wind has dried up her fruit, || The rod of her strength has been broken and withered, || Fire has consumed it. 
And now she is planted in a wilderness, || In a dry and thirsty land. 
And fire goes forth from a rod of her boughs, || It has devoured her fruit, || And she has no rod of strength—a scepter to rule, || A lamentation—and she has become for a lamentation!” 
