שְׁאָגָה

I sigh when food is put before me, and my groans pour out like water.

The lion may roar, and the fierce lion may growl, yet the teeth of the young lions are broken.

For the choirmaster. To the tune of “The Doe of the Dawn.” A Psalm of David. My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? Why are You so far from saving me, so far from my words of groaning?

When I kept silent, my bones became brittle from my groaning all day long.

Their roaring is like that of a lion; they roar like young lions. They growl and seize their prey; they carry it away, and no one can rescue it.

He broke down their strongholds and devastated their cities. The land and everything in it shuddered at the sound of his roaring.

Listen to the wailing of the shepherds, for their glory is in ruins. Listen to the roaring of the young lions, for the thickets of the Jordan are destroyed.