My harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the voice of those who weep.

所以，我的琴音变为悲音；我的箫声变为哭声。”

我的琴音变为哀泣；我的箫声变为哭声。”

我的琴音变为哀泣；我的箫声变为哭声。”

我的琴唱出哀乐，我的箫奏出悲鸣。

所以我的琴音变为哀音，我的箫声变为哭声。”

所以，我的琴音變為悲音；我的簫聲變為哭聲。

我的琴音變為哀泣；我的簫聲變為哭聲。」

我的琴音變為哀泣；我的簫聲變為哭聲。」

我的琴唱出哀樂，我的簫奏出悲鳴。

所以我的琴音變為哀音，我的簫聲變為哭聲。”

故此我的琴音變為悲哀，我的簫聲變為哀哭之人的聲音。

我琴成悲聲、我簫發哀響、

我鼓琴以寄哀、我吹簫而泣訴。

我琴發悲聲、我簫發哀音、或作我琴音變為悲音我簫聲變為哭聲

My lyre is tuned to mourning, and my pipe to the sound of wailing.

My lyre is tuned to sadness. My flute makes a sound like weeping.

My lyre is turned to mourning, and my pipe to the voice of those who weep.

My harp plays sad music, and my flute accompanies those who weep.

My lyre is used for mourning and my flute for the sound of weeping.

Therefore my harp is turned to mourning, And my flute to the sound of those who weep.

Therefore is my harp turned to mourning, And my pipe into the voice of them that weep.

My lyre is used for mourning and my flute for the sound of weeping.

My harp also is[ turned] to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that weep.

My harp is used for mourning and my flute for the sound of weeping.

Therefore my harp has turned to mourning, and my pipe into the voice of those who weep.

The joy of our heart has ceased; Our dance has turned into mourning.

My heart wavered, fearfulness frightened me; The night for which I longed He turned into fear for me.

A time to weep, And a time to laugh; A time to mourn, And a time to dance;

And in that day the Lord GOD of hosts Called for weeping and for mourning, For baldness and for girding with sackcloth.

By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept When we remembered Zion.We hung our harps Upon the willows in the midst of it.For there those who carried us away captive asked of us a song, And those who plundered us requested mirth, Saying,“ Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”How shall we sing the LORD’s song In a foreign land?

Now the king went to his palace and spent the night fasting; and no musicians were brought before him. Also his sleep went from him.

The new wine fails, the vine languishes, All the merry-hearted sigh.The mirth of the tambourine ceases, The noise of the jubilant ends, The joy of the harp ceases.They shall not drink wine with a song; Strong drink is bitter to those who drink it.