By the waters of Babylon
by the waters of Babylon
we sat down and wept
and wept
for thee Zion
We sat down and wept we sat down and wept we sat down and wept. . .
A shadow of a miracle of a particle of a shone of a show of a shadow of a song
Reflected backwards from the silver backing of a mirrored dream
we sat down and wept and wept and wept for thee Zion
We sat down and wept
(and wept)
for: thee
*******************Zion*******************
By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.
There on the poplars
we hung our harps,
for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, "Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How can we sing the songs of the Lord
while in a foreign land?
If I forget you, Jerusalem,
may my right hand forget its skill.
May my tongue cling to the roof of my mouth
if I do not remember you,
if I do not consider Jerusalem
my highest joy.
Remember, Lord, what the Edomites did
on the day Jerusalem fell.
"Tear it down," they cried,
"tear it down to its foundations!"
Daughter Babylon, doomed to destruction,
happy is the one who repays you
according to what you have done to us.
Happy is the one who seizes your infants
and dashes them against the rocks.
Psalm 137
