The poem begins with a question: how has the Lord covered the daughter of Zion with the cloud of his anger? He has cast down from heaven to earth the splendor of Israel and has not remembered his footstool in the day of his anger. He has swallowed up without mercy the habitations of Jacob and the strongholds of the daughter of Judah. He has bent his bow like an enemy and poured out his fury like fire on the tent of Zion.
The Lord has been like an enemy: he has laid waste his meeting place, made festival and Sabbath be forgotten in Zion and spurned king and priest. He has rejected his altar, disowned his sanctuary and given the walls of her palaces into the enemy's hand. He determined to lay in ruins the wall of the daughter of Zion; her gates have sunk, there is no law, and her prophets find no vision. The elders sit on the ground in silence with dust on their heads, clothed in sackcloth.
The poet confesses that his eyes are spent with weeping, because children and infants faint in the streets and ask their mothers where the grain and wine are. He notes that the prophets saw false visions for Zion and did not expose her iniquity. Those who pass by clap and hiss, and the enemies say they have swallowed her. The Lord has done what he purposed, fulfilling his word commanded long ago.
The chapter ends with a call to prayer: let tears stream down like a torrent day and night and let Zion lift her hands to the Lord for the lives of her little ones. Zion asks whom he has treated this way, and concludes that young and old lie on the ground and the Lord summoned terrors on every side as for a festival day.