Woe to 1the bloody city, all full of lies and plunder-- 2no end to the prey!
The crack of the whip, and 3rumble of the wheel, 4galloping horse and 5bounding chariot!
Horsemen charging, flashing sword and 6glittering spear, 7hosts of slain, heaps of corpses, dead bodies without end-- they stumble over the bodies!
And all for the countless whorings of the 8prostitute, 9graceful and of deadly charms, who betrays nations with her whorings, and peoples with her charms.
510Behold, I am against you, declares the LORD of hosts, and 11will lift up your skirts over your face; and I will make nations look at 12your nakedness and kingdoms at your shame.
I will throw filth at you and 13treat you with contempt and make you 14a spectacle.
And all who look at you 15will shrink from you and say, Wasted is 16Nineveh; 17who will grieve for her? 18Where shall I seek comforters for you?
819Are you better than 20Thebesa that sat 21by the Nile, with water around her, her rampart a sea, and water her wall?
922Cush was her strength; Egypt too, and that without limit; 23Put and the 24Libyans were herb helpers.
1025Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity; 26her infants were dashed in pieces at the head of every street; for her honored men 27lots were cast, 28and all her great men were bound in chains.
1129You also will be drunken; you will go into hiding; 30you will seek a refuge from the enemy.
All your fortresses are 31like fig trees with first-ripe figs-- if shaken they fall into the mouth of the eater.
Behold, your troops 32are women in your midst. The gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire has devoured your bars.
1433Draw water for the siege; 34strengthen your forts; go into the clay; tread the mortar; take hold of the brick mold!
There will the fire devour you; the sword will cut you off. It will 35devour you 36like the locust. Multiply yourselves 37like the locust; multiply 38like the grasshopper!
You increased 39your merchants more than the stars of the heavens. 40The locust spreads its wings and flies away.
Your 41princes are 42like grasshoppers, 43your scribesc like clouds of locusts settling on the fences in a day of cold-- when the sun rises, they fly away; no one knows where they are.
Your shepherds 44are asleep, O king of Assyria; 45your nobles slumber. Your people 46are scattered on the mountains with none to gather them.
There is no easing your hurt; 47your wound is grievous. All who hear the news about you 48clap their hands over you. For 49upon whom has not come your unceasing evil?