H ija de mi pueblo, cíñete de cilicio, y revuélcate en ceniza; ponte luto como por hijo único, llanto de amarguras; porque pronto vendrá sobre nosotros el destruidor.
Daughter of my people, clothe yourself with sackcloth, and wallow in ashes! Mourn, as for an only son, most bitter lamentation; for the destroyer shall suddenly come on us.
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