He will stretch out his hand against the north and will cause Assyria to perish. Let him make Nineveh a desolation, a desolate place like the wilderness.
Flocks will lie down in its midst, every living thing of the nation. Moreover, the owl and the porcupine will spend the night on its columns. A bird's call will resound from the window. Desolation will be on the sill, for the cedar will be stripped bare.
This is the jubilant city, the one dwelling securely, the one saying in her heart, I, and no one else, will endure forever. How she has become a desolation, a resting place for the wild animals. All those who pass through her hiss and shake their fist.