His breath is like an overflowing stream. It rises neck high, sifting the nations with a sieve of destruction, placing a bit in the mouths of the people to lead them astray.
You will sing a song like the song you sing on a festival night. Your hearts will be happy like someone going out with a flute on the way to the LORD's mountain, to the rock of Israel.
The LORD will make his majestic voice heard. He will come down with all his might, with furious anger, with fire storms, windstorms, rainstorms, and hailstones.
At the sound of the LORD, the people of Assyria will be shattered. He will strike them with his rod.
To the sound of tambourines and lyres, the LORD will pound on them. He will fight them in battle, swinging his fists.
Topheth was prepared long ago. It was made ready for the king. It was made deep and wide and piled high with plenty of burning logs. The LORD's breath will be like a flood of burning sulfur, setting it on fire.