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Chapter 8 - Exhuming Bones from Their Graves - Part 2

Introduction: The Haftarah of "Asof Asifem"

We arrive at Chapter 8, verse 13, which marks the beginning of the haftarah for Tishah B'Av, the haftarah of "Asof Asifem." Up to this point, the prophet described the great rebellion among the Jewish people: "I paid heed and listened, but they did not speak what is right; no man relents of his wickedness, saying, 'What have I done?'" and likewise, "Yet My people do not know the judgment of Hashem." Now, after detailing the sin, the prophet turns to describe the punishment. From this point forward, as Malbim explains, the chapter is structured as a dialogue: at times the Holy One, Blessed be He, speaks, at times the prophet, and at times the people. Therefore, even within a single verse, multiple voices of question and answer may be heard.

Verse 13: Asof Asifem

אָסֹף אֲסִיפֵם נְאֻם ה' אֵין עֲנָבִים בַּגֶּפֶן וְאֵין תְּאֵנִים בַּתְּאֵנָה וְהֶעָלֶה נָבֵל וָאֶתֵּן לָהֶם יַעַבְרוּם׃ - "I will utterly consume them, says Hashem; there are no grapes on the vine, nor figs on the fig tree, and the leaf has withered; and what I gave them shall pass away from them."

Radak explains that both expressions, "asof asifem," denote destruction and cessation, as in "and you shall gather your soul" or "they will perish (yisufu)" - they will be completely destroyed, everything will come to an end. It will be utter destruction, to the point that no grapes will be found on the vine and no figs on the fig tree. Why specifically these two examples? Because these were the two varieties of fruit that people cultivated most and consumed extensively. Similarly, we find in blessing, "every man under his vine and under his fig tree," and in curse, "it shall eat up your vine and your fig tree." These formed their staple food and primary crops. "And the leaf has withered" - even the leaves will wither prematurely, demonstrating the magnitude of their misfortune. "And what I gave them shall pass away from them (va'eten lahem ya'avrum)" - the abundance of fruit that I granted them will pass away from them through enemies who will consume all their produce, with "ya'avrum" understood as "shall pass away from them."

Malbim interprets differently: there are two distinct expressions here. The first word, "asof," comes from gathering (asifah), while "asifem" comes from destruction, as in "they shall perish and pass away" or "shall not perish from their descendants." That is, the Holy One, Blessed be He, says: I will gather them - and for what purpose will I gather them? In order to consume them. Gathering for the purpose of destroying them.

To this the people respond: But there are no grapes on the vine and no figs on the fig tree; we have no food to sustain ourselves! The Holy One, Blessed be He, answers them: "Va'eten lahem ya'avrum" - how can I give them grapes and figs when they transgress (ovrim) the mitzvos I commanded them? We thus find three interpretations of "va'eten lahem ya'avrum." The first, according to Malbim: I gave them the Torah and they transgressed it, so how can they complain of a lack of bounty and sustenance? The second: I gave grapes and figs, but who ultimately takes them? The nations that exile them to another land - they are the ones who seize the fruit. The third, along similar lines: since they have nothing to eat, "and I will give to them" - I will hand them over to the nations that will exile them. That is, according to this third explanation, the meaning is not that I will give the fruit to the nations, but rather that I will hand this people over to the nations who will deport them.

Verse 14: Why Do We Sit Still?

עַל מָה אֲנַחְנוּ יֹשְׁבִים הֵאָסְפוּ וְנָבוֹא אֶל עָרֵי הַמִּבְצָר וְנִדְּמָה שָּׁם כִּי ה' אֱלֹהֵינוּ הֲדִמָּנוּ וַיַּשְׁקֵנוּ מֵי רֹאשׁ כִּי חָטָאנוּ לַה'׃ - "Why do we sit still? Assemble yourselves, and let us enter into the fortified cities, and let us be silent there; for Hashem our God has silenced us and given us water of gall to drink, because we have sinned against Hashem."

Malbim explains: here the people are speaking. Since "asof asifem" indicates that there will be an assembly, the people gather among themselves and say: "Why do we sit still?" - why do we remain complacent and take no action, devising no battle strategy? Therefore, "assemble yourselves, and let us enter into the fortified cities" - let us go into the fortified cities and fight the enemy from there. This was always their practice: when defending against an enemy, they would retreat into a walled city, a place where they could take defensive positions and wage war.

The prophet responds: "And let us be silent there" - do you truly think salvation will come from there? In that very place you will be silenced. The reason is simple: had the deficiency been one of military strength or tactical counsel, there would be room to devise strategies. But that is not the issue, "for Hashem our God has silenced us" - who is the One who has silenced us? Hashem our God, He is the One who has rendered us mourners, struck dumb with grief. And instead of giving mourners the customary cup of consolation to drink, "He has given us water of gall to drink" - and all because we have sinned against Hashem.

And what is "water of gall (mei rosh)"? The plant "rosh" was a poisonous herb, a deadly toxin, and the juice squeezed from it was called "mei rosh," meaning poisonous water. The Targum renders this: "and gave us a cup of curses to drink, evil as the heads of vipers" - that is, like snake venom.

Pasuk 15: Hope for Peace, but There Is No Good

קַוֵּה לְשָׁלוֹם וְאֵין טוֹב לְעֵת מַרְפֵּה וְהִנֵּה בְעָתָה׃ - Hope for peace, but there is no good; for a time of healing, and behold, terror!

The people say: It is proper to hope for peace, so why is there no good? The prophet answers them: "For a time of healing, and behold, terror!" It was indeed fitting to hope for a time of healing, for all these troubles were meant to bring you to healing, to lead you to do teshuvah. But instead of teshuvah - "terror", they are defiant, clinging to their evil and corruption. Before you ask me why there is no peace, let me ask you: Why is there no teshuvah? Why do you not mend your ways?

Pasuk 16: From Dan the Snorting of His Horses Was Heard

מִדָּן נִשְׁמַע נַחְרַת סוּסָיו מִקּוֹל מִצְהֲלוֹת אַבִּירָיו רָעֲשָׁה כָּל הָאָרֶץ וַיָּבוֹאוּ וַיֹּאכְלוּ אֶרֶץ וּמְלוֹאָהּ עִיר וְיֹשְׁבֵי בָהּ׃ - From Dan was heard the snorting of his horses; at the sound of the neighing of his stallions the entire land quaked; and they came and devoured the land and its fullness, the city and those who dwell in it.

Why does it specifically mention Dan? The Radak explains that Dan is at the northern border of the land, and Scripture comes to teach that the snorting of the horses could be heard from the very edge of the land. Targum Yonatan explains that "from Dan" is not merely geographical, but an allusion to the spiritual corruption that took place in Dan: "Because they worshiped the calf that was in Dan" - because they worshiped the golden calf set up in Dan, from there the calamity burst forth; therefore, a king with his legions will march upon them and exile them.

"The snorting of his horses" - Radak explains that this means the sneezing of his horses; a horse's sneeze is called nechirah because it issues from the nostrils (nechirayim). "At the sound of the neighing of his stallions" - there are two explanations for this. The first is that it refers to the horses, who are called abirim (mighty steeds), and at the sound of their neighing the whole earth trembled. The second, based on Targum Yonatan, which renders it "from the sound of the stamping of his mighty warriors", refers to the warriors themselves: when setting out for battle, the mighty men would raise battle cries and blast horns, making a thunderous noise to urge the fighters to charge with all their strength.

The Malbim explains that the first part of the pasuk is spoken by the people, who lodge a complaint: How can this be? When Yaakov blessed his sons, he said, "Dan shall be a serpent on the road, a viper on the path, that bites the horse's heels, so that his rider falls backward." The men of Dan were trained warriors skilled at fighting cavalry, striking the horses so that their riders would fall backward - that was their specialty. For this reason, Dan served as the rear guard for all the camps: cavalrymen typically strike at stragglers lagging behind, who are the first to be targeted by pursuers. Dan was therefore stationed at the rear to protect those trailing behind, being uniquely qualified to fight mounted soldiers. Over this, the people wonder: How has the wheel turned, that specifically from Dan the snorting of the enemy's horses is heard? Where are the men of Dan, who were so adept at fighting horses, and why did they not stand against them and block the enemy's path at the very border, before the whole land trembled and they entered the land itself, devouring the land and its fullness, the city and those who dwell in it?

Pasuk 17: Serpents, Vipers

כִּי הִנְנִי מְשַׁלֵּחַ בָּכֶם נְחָשִׁים צִפְעֹנִים אֲשֶׁר אֵין לָהֶם לָחַשׁ וְנִשְּׁכוּ אֶתְכֶם נְאֻם ה'׃ - For behold, I am sending among you serpents, vipers for which there is no charm, and they will bite you, says Hashem.

What are "serpents, vipers"? Rashi cites the words of Chazal that after seventy years, a serpent becomes a viper; that is, its ears become sealed so that it can no longer hear, and consequently nothing can be done against it. In ancient times there was a "charmer of charms" - a person skilled at making sounds to snakes, gathering them with his voice and controlling them. But a snake eventually reaches a stage where it loses its hearing, and this is what Chazal meant when they taught that after seventy years it becomes a viper. The viper does not listen to any charmer whispering in its ear, and thus it cannot be restrained. This is the meaning of "like a deaf cobra that stops its ear." And this is why Scripture says, "for which there is no charm" - incantations have no effect on them; these are serpents that can no longer be controlled. In other words: I am sending against you an enemy against whom there is no remedy.

The Malbim explains that this is Hashem's response to the people's argument. The people wondered: The snorting of horses is heard from Dan, yet Dan was always the expert in combating enemies on horseback! The Holy One, blessed be He, answers them: "For behold, I am sending among you serpents, vipers." You thought Dan was like a serpent - now the opposite will occur. I am the One sending the serpents against you. The enemy will come like a snake, yet they are far harsher than snakes, and they will bite you. It will not be like Dan biting the horses - "that bites the horse's heels" - but rather now "and they will bite you": our fortunes have turned from good to bad, measure for measure.

Verse 18: Restraining Grief

מַבְלִיגִיתִי עֲלֵי יָגוֹן עָלַי לִבִּי דַוָּי׃ - If I sought to restrain my grief, my heart within me is faint.

Rashi explains that mavligiti is related to restraint, forbearance, and summoning strength. I thought to restrain myself and overcome my sorrow, but I cannot, for "my heart within me is faint [davai]" - davai denotes pain; my heart aches knowing the impending dire prophecies. And if I thought perhaps I could restrain myself, I cannot, for from deep within me the harsh prophecies about the future are revealed to me, and in such a state restraint is impossible.

The Malbim explains that these are the words of the people. They say: what we thought was restraint born of resilience and hope turns out not to stem from a clear-eyed view of reality at all, but quite the contrary - we are like a sick person whose heart is faint within him. To understand this, let us ask a question: What is the difference between someone falling from the tenth floor and someone falling from the first floor? From the tenth floor it is "Ahhh... boom," while from the first floor it is "Boom... ahhh." Would we say that falling from the tenth floor is less dangerous, since upon impact the person does not scream? Certainly not. We understand that when someone is injured, or in a terror attack, war, casualty, or accident, God forbid - if the victim is still conscious and can be spoken to, there is hope. Paramedics always say: keep him talking, engage him so he does not lose consciousness, because once he loses consciousness it is very difficult to revive him. The Holy One, blessed be He, created a mechanism in man whereby at the point where he can no longer endure the pain, a disconnection occurs: loss of consciousness. Otherwise, a person in excruciating pain would continue to suffer horrific agony. Yet loss of consciousness testifies to the critical state the person is in - he can simply no longer bear the pain.

It turns out, then, that "when I would comfort myself against sorrow" - the fact that I held back my grief and no cry was heard from me - does not stem from fortitude, hope for a better future, or a sober assessment of reality. Rather, it is the exact opposite: it shows that I have reached the state of a sick person who has lost consciousness. This is the meaning of "my heart within me is faint" - I am already like an invalid whose sensations and feelings have ceased entirely, who therefore no longer feels what is being done to him, and it is from this numbness that the silence and restraint arise. Thus, restraint can sometimes stem from overcoming emotion, but at other times from the total loss of sensation, when a person falls silent and does nothing.

Verse 19: A Grammatical Note - Moshe and Kalev

הִנֵּה קוֹל שַׁוְעַת בַּת עַמִּי מֵאֶרֶץ מַרְחַקִּים הַה' אֵין בְּצִיּוֹן אִם מַלְכָּהּ אֵין בָּהּ מַדּוּעַ הִכְעִסוּנִי בִּפְסִלֵיהֶם בְּהַבְלֵי נֵכָר׃ - Behold, the sound of the cry of the daughter of my people from a distant land: "Is Hashem not in Zion? Is her King no longer in her?" "Why have they provoked Me to anger with their carved images, with foreign vanities?"

Before explaining the verse, a grammatical note is in order. The Tetragrammaton is read using the Name of Adonut (Adonai), and grammatically it follows the rules of the word Adoni: sometimes the aleph is sounded, and sometimes it is quiescent. The well-known rule is "Moshe and Kalev," with the mnemonic: Moshe brings out, and Kalev brings in - Moshe brought us out of Egypt, and Kalev brought us into the Land. That is, if the prefix letter is one of the letters of Moshe (Mem, Shin, Heh), we "bring out" the aleph and pronounce it: me-Adonai, she-Adonai, ha-Adonai. But if it begins with one of the letters of Kalev (Kaf, Lamed, Bet), we "bring in" and swallow the aleph: ka-Donai, la-Donai, ba-Donai. Just as we say, "Ein k'Eloheinu, ein ka-Donenu [not k'Adonenu], ein k'malkeinu, ein k'moshieinu," and similarly, "ba-Donai al timrodu" (do not rebel against Hashem). Many make a mistake in this: in the verse, "Be strong and let your heart take courage, all you who hope in Hashem [la-Hashem]" - one must say "la-Donai," where the aleph is silent, and not pronounce it as "le-Adonai."

Now, there is the Masorah, which preserves for us the precise pronunciation in every single place. Among Sephardic scholars there were many masters of the Masorah - the Machberet of the Tijan, Radak, the Michlol, and many Masoretic texts. Among Ashkenazic scholars, the most widely accepted authority is the Minchat Shai, renowned as the grammarian who records the Masorah. Here, according to the standard rule, "Ha-Hashem ein b'Tziyon" begins with a Heh, which is one of the letters of Moshe, and it would seem that the aleph should be pronounced. However, the Masorah states: every occurrence of the divine Name with the letters of Moshe causes the aleph to be articulated, "except for one" - and that is "Ha-Hashem ein b'Tziyon," as cited from the Michlol. Here, one does not read "ha-Adonai," but rather "ha-Donai"; the aleph remains silent, contrary to the standard grammatical rule. This is a unique exception in the entire Tanach. Now let us return to the verse itself.

Verse 19: Who Is Crying Out?

There are three explanations as to who is speaking here. Rashi explains that the prophet is speaking about the Jewish people in the future, as if saying: I already hear the people of Israel crying out from their lands of exile. But are they not still here in the Land? Rather, the prophet wants to depict for them: You are not listening to my words; know that this is what is about to happen, and I already foresee the future and hear you crying out from the lands of your exile. "Is Hashem not in Zion? Is her King no longer in her?" - by virtue of what has all this happened? Is the Holy One, blessed be He, not present here? After all, if you return to Him in repentance, He will accept you. Why, then, must I hear you crying from a distant land? It is over this that the prophet's heart aches, as he describes what lies ahead.

Radak explains that the Jewish people are the ones crying out right now. His difficulty is well known: both the prophet and the people are still here, so what is the meaning of "the sound of the cry of the daughter of my people from a distant land"? Rashi resolved this by explaining that the prophet is envisioning the future. Radak resolves it differently: it does not mean that my people are crying out while physically in a distant land, but rather the sound of the cry of the daughter of my people trembling in terror of the enemy coming from a distant land. And what do they cry out? "Is Hashem not in Zion? Is her King no longer in her?" - how could an enemy come to attack us; is the Holy One, blessed be He, not here, and do we have no King? Surely His Presence rests in Zion, and a king reigns in it, so how could an enemy come and conquer? And the Holy One, blessed be He, responds: "Why have they provoked Me to anger with their carved images, with foreign vanities?" - how can they expect to be saved by Hashem after they have provoked Him with their idols and foreign vanities?

According to the Malbim, "the cry of the daughter of my people from a distant land" refers literally to those of the nation who are already in exile in a distant land - for the Ten Tribes are already there. The Holy One, blessed be He, says: I hear the voice of the cry of the Ten Tribes in a distant land, beyond the rivers of Cush, longing for redemption and salvation. And when they hear that not only is there no salvation, but that the remaining remnant left behind here is also about to be exiled - this causes them to despair completely, depriving them of all hope. They wonder: Is it not enough that we are not returning, but now those remaining there will also be exiled? And they ask: "Is Hashem not in Zion?" - for Zion is the resting place of His Shechinah, and there it is fitting that they should be saved miraculously, above the laws of nature. And if you say that Hashem has abandoned them and there is a concealment of the Divine face - "Is her King not in her?", at least let them be saved through natural means, by fighting against their enemies.

To this Hashem answers them, and here it is roughly along the lines of the Radak: "Why have they provoked Me with their graven images?" - this punishment does not happen by mere chance, but through full Divine providence, for they exchanged Hashem for other gods. And not only that, but My people exchanged their God for something worthless. The very act of exchanging for another is a great betrayal. To use an analogy: if a man was married to an extraordinary woman, and he went and married another extraordinary woman - would his wife not be hurt? Of course she would be hurt. But if he takes a woman who is utterly worthless, the offense is seven hundred times greater: "You traded me for someone like that?!" This is what the verse means: they exchanged Hashem for other gods, and this in itself is a grievous iniquity; and furthermore, "with foreign vanities" - they provoked My jealousy with a non-god, they provoked Me with their vanities. Had you said that you took another from whom you derive benefit, that too would be a sin; but you took one that possesses no power whatsoever. Therefore, the punishment is brought about with full providence and not by chance, and so you, the Ten Tribes who await salvation - know that not only is your salvation not near, but even those who are still here are destined to be exiled.

Pasuk 20: The harvest has passed, the summer has ended

עָבַר קָצִיר כָּלָה קָיִץ וַאֲנַחְנוּ לוֹא נוֹשָׁעְנוּ׃ - The harvest has passed, the summer has ended, and we have not been saved.

According to the Malbim, this is a continuation of the words of the Ten Tribes: The harvest has already passed and the summer has ended, and we still have not been saved; for many days we have anticipated salvation, and it has not yet arrived. The expression "we have not been saved" fits very well with someone who is already in exile. According to the other commentators, further explanation is needed, and they indeed provide it.

Rashi explains: Through whom did we expect to be saved? We relied on Egypt, thinking that Pharaoh would save us; we looked forward to Egyptian assistance - and behold, we saw that our salvation was in vain. Yet the prophet had warned them not to look to Egypt for help, for it is like a crushed reed, which, when leaned upon, splinters, piercing and puncturing the hand. We thought: let the harvest pass, for they are surely preoccupied now, with much work in the fields, and have not yet freed themselves up. The harvest passed in Iyar, and still they did not arrive. We thought: now they are busy with the summer fruit harvest, cutting the figs and drying them, having no time to send an army. Yet the summer ended too, and we were not saved - those whose help we awaited were worthless, and our expectations were completely unfounded.

The Radak explains that harvest and summer are distinct times when salvation comes to man. The harvest is a time of deliverance from famine: finally there is wheat, there is food, thank God there is no drought this year, and therefore it is written, "as with the joy of harvest." The summer, too, when a person rejoices in his fruits, is a season of gladness. By way of allegory, the verse means to say: there are times uniquely suited for salvation and joy, yet these seasons have passed and we are still not saved; although these are times when one rightfully anticipates goodness, the good did not arrive.

The Malbim notes with precision: "The harvest has passed, the summer has ended" - Scripture doubles its wording, mentioning both harvest and summer, and both "passed" and "ended," which requires explanation. Rather, summer comes after the harvest, and "ended" (kalah) is more definitive than "passed" (avar): "passed" implies that perhaps a little still remains, whereas "ended" implies total completion. Thus, the prophet progresses in severity: the harvest has passed, which is the first stage, when perhaps something still remained; not only that, but we have also passed the second stage and the summer has already ended, a complete termination, and yet we have not been saved. That is to say: salvation has become entirely distant.

Pasuk 21: For the brokenness of the daughter of my people I am broken

עַל שֶׁבֶר בַּת עַמִּי הָשְׁבָּרְתִּי קָדַרְתִּי שַׁמָּה הֶחֱזִקָתְנִי׃ - For the brokenness of the daughter of my people I am broken; I mourn; desolation has seized me.

The prophet says: Over the brokenness of the Jewish people, over their great and bitter distress, I myself am shattered. Targum Yonatan explains that this is the voice of Jerusalem speaking: over the fracture of the Congregation of Israel, over the brokenness of the Jewish people, Jerusalem, as it were, has been broken. "I mourn" (kadarti) - from the language of gloom and darkness, blackness and shadow; "desolation" (shamah) - from the language of bewilderment and astonishment, desolation and shock have seized me.

And the Malbim explains that here, too, there is a progressive intensification. At first, "I am broken" - a fracture can be partial, a broken arm or a broken leg, in one part of the body. "I mourn" (blackened) - now the entire body has grown dark. "Desolation has seized me" - now completely desolate and stunned. The prophet depicts, step by step, the troubles growing ever more severe and overwhelming.

According to the Malbim, this verse is also a continuation of the words of the Ten Tribes, and this is truly wonderful: the Ten Tribes are weeping there in a distant land, their hearts aching over the brokenness of the daughter of my people - over whom? Over those who remained here, the tribes of Judah and Benjamin, who have also been broken. And about them it is said, "I am broken" completely: if until now I was in a state of brokenness, now I am broken even further. For I had hope that soon I would be redeemed, but when I hear that even those remaining in the Land are destined for exile, it becomes clear just how far redemption is receding, and this has added fracture upon fracture. Furthermore, the Malbim notes: there is a three-fold expression here - "I am broken" (hushbarti), "I am darkened" (kadarti), "desolation has seized me" (shammah hechezikatni) - three expressions of catastrophe, corresponding to the three times Nebuchadnezzar marched against Jerusalem and exiled its people.

Verse 22: Is there no balm in Gilead?

הַצֳּרִי אֵין בְּגִלְעָד אִם רֹפֵא אֵין שָׁם כִּי מַדּוּעַ לֹא עָלְתָה אֲרֻכַת בַּת עַמִּי׃ - Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there? Why then is the health of the daughter of my people not recovered?

In Targum Yonatan there is an interpretation by way of derash: the prophet laments over himself and says, "Perhaps I do not possess good deeds to plead for the House of Israel?" - could it be that I lack good deeds to be worthy of praying for mercy upon the people of Israel? "Did I not long for the teaching of Eliyahu the prophet from Gilead, whose words are healing?" - for I yearned for the Torah of Eliyahu HaNavi from Gilead, whose words and deeds are themselves the cure. And this is "Is there no balm in Gilead?": Do we not have the great healer, Eliyahu who comes from Gilead? And to this he says, "Why then is the health of the daughter of my people not recovered?" - because they did not repent, and therefore healing and recovery did not come upon them.

The Malbim, however, interprets according to the peshat, explaining that here lies God's response. To those who were broken and to those who ask why this trouble has befallen us, the Holy One, blessed be He, says: Did the tribe of Judah need medicine made from herbs brought from a distant land, from remedies originating overseas? Indeed, "Is there no balm in Gilead?" - is their cure not readily found in Gilead? Gilead is the place of balm, the place of healing. And the Metzudat Tzion notes that balm (tzori) is the nataf mentioned among the spices of the ketoret, a tree resin used for medicinal healing, as it is said, "take balm for her pain." There is no need to import it from afar, for that very plant is found in Gilead. And lest you say: balm may be available, but there are no physicians who know how to compound it? To this He says, "Is there no physician there?" - is there no doctor who knows how to administer the balm, how to prepare it, and how to heal with it?

If so, "Why then is the health of the daughter of my people not recovered?" If the remedy is fitting and ready, they should have healed immediately. In simple terms: their cure is close at hand, and on what does it depend? That they improve their ways and correct their flawed conduct. They have the Torah, they have the mitzvot, and they have the prophets. The Torah and mitzvot are the balm, they are the medicine. And who knows how to make this medicine accessible and administer it? The physicians, the healers of the soul - the prophets and sages who teach Torah. Why then were they not healed? Here Scripture is saying, as it were, that the blame rests squarely on them: remedies exist and healing exists, and if they still remain ill, it is only because they refuse to take the medicine and refuse to heed the physicians' counsel. Consequently, their suffering is entirely of their own making.

Verse 23: Oh, that my head were waters

מִי יִתֵּן רֹאשִׁי מַיִם וְעֵינִי מְקוֹר דִּמְעָה וְאֶבְכֶּה יוֹמָם וָלַיְלָה אֵת חַלְלֵי בַת עַמִּי׃ - Oh, that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night for the slain of the daughter of my people!

The prophet says: on the one hand, out of the immense love I bear for this nation, I want to weep day and night over their slain. Yet on the other hand, let us not be mistaken: the prophet harbors complete hatred toward their evil deeds and corrupt actions. Therefore, immediately in the next verse he says, "Oh, that I were in the wilderness, in a lodging place of wayfarers, that I might leave my people and go from them!" Just a moment ago you said you wanted to weep over them, and immediately you say you want to run away from them? This embodies the dual attitude we hold toward sinners and the wicked: on the one hand, one must love him just as one loves every member of Israel, for he is part of the Jewish people; on the other hand, one must thoroughly despise his wicked deeds.

Once, a man came to the Rebbe of Gur and said regarding a certain individual, "It is a mitzvah to bury him" - meaning, he is utterly wicked and it is a mitzvah to finish him off. The Rebbe said to him: A mitzvah to bury him? Where did you derive such a mitzvah? I will prove to you from the Torah that there is no mitzvah to bury him. For during the Plague of Darkness, it is written that the people of Israel buried the wicked among them, so that the Egyptians would not know that wicked individuals among us also died; while all the Egyptians were immobilized, Israel went and buried them. And yet, when Israel was about to be redeemed, what does the verse say? "And I passed by you and saw you wallowing in your blood" - what merit did they possess? The blood of the Pesach offering and the blood of circumcision (milah). Why was the merit of burying the wicked not counted for them? Because it is no mitzvah; had it been a mitzvah, they would have been redeemed from Egypt in its merit.

And on another occasion, it is told that he heard someone say about a person, "That wicked man, may his name and memory be blotted out (yimach shemo vezichro)." He asked him, "How can you say such a thing about him?" The man replied, "Is he not wicked?" The Rebbe told him: "Know that it is proven from Halachah that his name and memory should not be erased. For it is written that if a woman's husband dies without children and he has a brother, she is subject to yibbum (levirate marriage). And what is the law if the deceased husband was wicked? The ruling is that at the very least chalitzah is required. And why is this performed? So that the name of the deceased shall not be blotted out. Thus the Torah says, 'so that his name will not be blotted out,' and this is codified in the Shulchan Aruch - yet you say 'may it be blotted out'?"

In any event, we see that on the one hand we anticipate that wickedness will cease, as our Sages expounded on the verse: "and not sinners" - that the sinners should not perish, but rather return in repentance and become righteous, and through this wickedness itself will vanish. This is what lies before us: out of his great love for the Jewish people, the prophet says, "Oh, that my head were waters, and my eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night," wishing to weep day and night over the dreadful afflictions befalling the Jewish people; yet on the other hand, to remain here among the wicked and transgressors is something I cannot bear and am unable to endure, and therefore, "Oh, that I were in the wilderness, in a lodging place of wayfarers" - to distance myself from them into the desert.

And what is his request? "O that my head were waters" - that my head be entirely water, "and my eyes a spring of tears" - that a spring of tears flow from my eyes, that water would pour outward from this source, so that through this I could weep day and night without ceasing. The Malbim explains that naturally, continuous weeping dries out the brain until tears run dry; excessive crying causes dryness in the brain, and the tears cease. Therefore, he prays that even as he weeps day and night, the moisture in his head will not be exhausted; rather, his head should be, as it were, formed of the element of water, and consequently tears would stream from his eyes continually, like a flowing brook, an inexhaustible spring of tears.

In summary:

In this part of the chapter, the opening of the haftarah of Tishah B'Av, the prophet describes the punishment that arrives in the wake of their rebellion: "I will utterly consume them" - a gathering for the purpose of destruction, until there are no grapes on the vine and no figs on the fig tree. According to the Malbim, the chapter is structured as a dialogue: the people gather and seek the counsel of fortified cities, and the prophet replies that the silence and destruction come from Hashem; the people hope for peace, and the prophet asks where their repentance is; the people wonder how from Dan, renowned for its mastery of cavalry in battle, the snorting of the enemy's horses is heard, and the Holy One, Blessed is He, replies that now He is sending against them venomous serpents that cannot be charmed. The Ten Tribes in a distant land cry out that the remaining remnant is also about to be exiled, and it becomes clear to them that redemption has drawn far away: "The harvest has passed, the summer has ended, and we are not saved." And finally, the prophet demonstrates that the remedy is readily available - the balm is in Gilead and the physician is there, the Torah, the mitzvos, and the Sages who teach them - and if no healing has emerged, it is solely because they refused to take the remedy. Over all this the prophet weeps, out of complete love for the people and complete hatred for their evil deeds, praying that his head be like a spring of water that never ceases weeping over the slain of the daughter of his people.