Psalms.
Chapter 137.
By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we thought about Zion. 
On the poplars there we hung our harps. 
There our captors required songs from us, and those who mocked us required us to be happy, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion.” 
How could we sing a song about Yahweh in a foreign land? 
If I ignore the memory of you, Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her skill. 
Let my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth if I think about you no more, if I do not prefer Jerusalem more than my greatest delights. 
Call to mind, Yahweh, what the Edomites did on the day Jerusalem fell. They said, “Tear it down, tear it down to its foundations.” 
Daughter of Babylon, soon to be destroyed— may the person be blessed, whoever pays you back for what you have done to us. 
May the person be blessed, whoever takes and dashes your little ones against a rock. 
