The songs of musicians will never be heard in you again. Gone will be the music of harps, flutes and trumpets. No worker of any kind will ever be found in you again. The sound of a millstone will never be heard in you again.
I will turn your holy feasts into times for mourning. I will turn all your songs into weeping. You will have to wear the clothing of sadness. You will shave your heads. I will make you mourn as if your only son had died. The end of that time will be like a bitter day.”