An oracle concerning Tyre:1 Wail,2 O ships3 of Tarshish!4 For Tyre is destroyed5 and left without house or harbor. From the land of Cyprusa word has come to them.
Be silent,6 you people of the island and you merchants7 of Sidon,8 whom the seafarers have enriched.
On the great waters came the grain of the Shihor;9 the harvest of the Nileb10 was the revenue of Tyre,11 and she became the marketplace of the nations.
Be ashamed, O Sidon,12 and you, O fortress of the sea, for the sea has spoken: "I have neither been in labor nor given birth;13 I have neither reared sons nor brought up daughters.
When word comes to Egypt, they will be in anguish14 at the report from Tyre.156
Cross over to Tarshish;16 wail, you people of the island.
Is this your city of revelry,17 the old, old city, whose feet have taken her to settle in far-off lands?