I will turn your feasts into mourning, And all your songs into lamentation; And I will make you wear sackcloth on all your bodies, And baldness on every head. I will make it like the mourning for an only son, And the end of it like a bitter day.
So the devastation that's going to come. The songs of mirth within the temple are going to turn into howlings. Dead carcasses everywhere buried in silence.