1. In the month Nisan of the twentieth year of King Artaxerxes, when the wine was in my charge, I took some and offered it to the king. Because I had never before been sad in his presence,
2. the king asked me, “Why do you look sad? If you are not sick, you must be sad at heart.” Though I was seized with great fear,
3. I answered the king: “May the king live forever! How could I not look sad when the city where my ancestors are buried lies in ruins, and its gates consumed by fire?”