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אֱלִי צִיּוֹן וְעָרֶֽיהָ
כְּמוֹ תּוֹרָה בַּאֲרוֹנוֹתֶֽיהָ
וּכְסִפְרָהּ בָּדָד, אֵינוֹ נִקְרַא
כָּל־אוֹת בָּהּ רְחוֹקָה מִצְּמֵאֶֽיהָ
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Wail, O Zion and her cities,
As Torah trapped in all of its arks,
And like its scroll left alone, unread,
Each letter distant from her thirsty ones.
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עֲלֵי אֲבֵלֵי מִשְׁפַּחְתָּהּ, נִמְנָעִים מִקִּבְרוֹתֶֽיהָ
וְעַל בָּתֵּי אָבוֹת מֻכִּים, מַעֲבִירִים אֶת־מַחֲלוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For the mourners of her families, held back from her graves;
And for the stricken nursing homes, spreaders of her diseases
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עֲלֵי גְדוֹלֵי תוֹרָתָהּ, אָבְדָה חָכְמָתָם מִלּוֹמְדֶֽיהָ
וְעַל דָמָם אֲשֶׁר הֻתַּז בְּמֶשֶׁךְ צִנְרוּר אֻשְׁפְּזֶֽיהָ
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For the great ones of her Torah, their wisdom was lost from her learners;
And for their blood that was splattered, during the intubation of her hospitalized ones
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עֲלֵי הֶֽבֶל תִּינוֹקוֹתֶיהָ, אֲשֶׁר דָּמַם בְּבָתֵּי סְפָרֶֽיהָ
וְעַל וְעָדוֹת אֲשֶׁר חִלְּקוּ אֶת־הַנְשָׁמַת מֽכוֹנוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For the breath of her babes, which was silenced in her schoolhouses;
And for committees that distributed her ventilators
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עֲלֵי זִקְנֵי קְהִלָּתָהּ, נִפְרָדִים מִמְּבַקְּרֶֽיהָ
וְעַל חוֹלִים שֶׁמִּתְפַּלְלִים, שֶׁלֹּא יִצְטָרְפוּ לְמֵתֶֽיהָ
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For the elders of her communities, separated from her ones who visit;
And for sick ones who pray that they won’t join her dead
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עֲלֵי טְרָחוֹת הוֹרֶֽיהָ, מְטַפְּלִים יוֹמָם בִּילָדֶֽיהָ
וְעַל יֻהֲרַת צַרְכָנֶֽיהָ, מְמַהֲרִים אֶת־פְּתִיחוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For the troubles of her parents who take care of her children all day;
And for the arrogance of her consumers, who rush her openings
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עֲלֵי כַלּוֹת אֲשֶׁר בִּטְּלוּ אֹֽשֶׁר חֲתֻנּוֹתֶֽיהָ
וְעַל לֵילוֹת בִּלּוּי בָּעִיר, חֲסֵרִים מִלּוּחוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For brides who cancelled weddings, her joys;
And for the nights out in the city, missing from her calendars
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עֲלֵי מַחֲנוֹת סְגוּרִים וְרֵיקִים, בְּלִי צָהֳלוֹת חֲנִיכֶֽיהָ
וְעַל נְגִיף הַמְזַהֵם, מְקוֹר כָּל־צָרוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For the closed and empty summer camps, without the revelries of her campers;
And for the infecting virus, the source of all these troubles of hers
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עֲלֵי שִֹנְאַת חִנָּם חַדָּה, אֲשֶׁר מְזִיקָה אֶת־מִעוּטֶֽיהָ
וְעַל עוֹבְדִים חִיּוּנִיִּים, מִסְתַּכְּנִים בַּעֲבוּר אַבְטָחוֹתֶֽיהָ
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For the sharp senseless hatred, that strikes her marginalized ones;
And for the essential workers, who endanger themselves for her safety
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עֲלֵי פֻּטְּרֵי פֹּעֲלֶֽיהָ, מְבַקְּשֵׁי לְחָמֶֽיהָ
וְעַל צִיּוּד מָגֵן אִישִׁי, לְלֹא הִמָּצֵא בֵּין רוֹפְאֶיהָ
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For her laid off workers, who hunger for her breads;
And for the PPE, not found with her healers
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עֲלֵי קוֹלוֹת מְחָרְפֶֽיהָ בְּעֵת רַבּוּ פְגָרֶֽיהָ,
וְעַל רִחוּק חֶבְרָתִי, וּבְדִידוּת אֲנָשֶֽׁיהָ
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For the voices of her scorners at the time of her increasing dead bodies;
And for social distancing, and the loneliness of her people
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עֲלֵי שְׁגִיאוֹת בַּבְּדִיקוֹת, מַאֲרִיכִים אֶת־יִסּוּרֶֽיהָ
וְעַל תְפִלּות מִנְיָנֶֽיהָ אֲשֶׁר שָׁתְקוּ בְּהֵיכָלֶֽיהָ
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For the mistakes with the tests; they prolong her suffering;
And for the prayers of her minyans, that were silenced in her prayer halls
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אֱלִי צִיּוֹן וְעָרֶֽיהָ
כְּמוֹ תּוֹרָה בַּאֲרוֹנוֹתֶֽיהָ
וּכְסִפְרָהּ בָּדָד, אֵינוֹ נִקְרַא
כָּל־אות בָּהּ רְחוֹקָה מִצְּמֵאֶֽיהָ
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Wail, O Zion and her cities,
As Torah trapped in all of its arks,
And like its scroll left alone, unread,
Each letter distant from her thirsty ones.
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