In the twelfth year, on the first day of the twelfth month, God's Message came to me:
"Son of man, sing a funeral lament over Pharaoh king of Egypt. Tell him: "'You think you're a young lion prowling through the nations. You're more like a dragon in the ocean, snorting and thrashing about.
"'God, the Master, says: "'I'm going to throw my net over you - many nations will get in on this operation - and haul you out with my dragnet.
'll dump you on the ground out in an open field And bring in all the crows and vultures for a sumptuous carrion lunch. I'll invite wild animals from all over the world to gorge on your guts.
I'll scatter hunks of your meat in the mountains and strew your bones in the valleys.
The country, right up to the mountains, will be drenched with your blood, your blood filling every ditch and channel.
When I blot you out, I'll pull the curtain on the skies and shut out the stars. I'll throw a cloud across the sun and turn off the moonlight.
I'll turn out every light in the sky above you and put your land in the dark. Decree of God, the Master.
I'll shake up everyone worldwide when I take you off captive to strange and far-off countries.
I'll shock people with you. Kings will take one look and shudder. I'll shake my sword and they'll shake in their boots. On the day you crash, they'll tremble, thinking, "That could be me!" To Lay Your Pride Low
"'God, the Master, says: "'The sword of the king of Babylon is coming against you.
I'll use the swords of champions to lay your pride low, Use the most brutal of nations to knock Egypt off her high horse, to puncture that hot-air pomposity.
I'll destroy all their livestock that graze along the river. Neither human foot nor animal hoof will muddy those waters anymore.
I'll clear their springs and streams, make their rivers flow clean and smooth. Decree of God, the Master.
When I turn Egypt back to the wild and strip her clean of all her abundant produce, When I strike dead all who live there, then they'll realize that I am God.'
"This is a funeral song. Chant it. Daughters of the nations, chant it. Chant it over Egypt for the death of its pomp." Decree of God, the Master.
In the twelfth year, on the fifteenth day of the first month, God's Message came to me:
"Son of man, lament over Egypt's pompous ways. Send her on her way. Dispatch Egypt and her proud daughter nations To the underworld, down to the country of the dead and buried.
Say, 'You think you're so high and mighty? Down! Take your place with the heathen in that unhallowed grave!'
"She'll be dumped in with those killed in battle. The sword is bared. Drag her off in all her proud pomp!
All the big men and their helpers down among the dead and buried will greet them: 'Welcome to the grave of the heathen! Join the ranks of the victims of war!'
"Assyria is there and its congregation, the whole nation a cemetery.
Their graves are in the deepest part of the underworld, a congregation of graves, all killed in battle, these people who terrorized the land of the living.
"Elam is there in all her pride, a cemetery - all killed in battle, dumped in her heathen grave with the dead and buried, these people who terrorized the land of the living. They carry their shame with them, along with the others in the grave.
They turned Elam into a resort for the pompous dead, landscaped with heathen graves, slaughtered in battle. They once terrorized the land of the living. Now they carry their shame down with the others in deep earth. They're in the section set aside for the slain in battle.
"Meshech-tubal is there in all her pride, a cemetery in uncircumcised ground, dumped in with those slaughtered in battle - just deserts for terrorizing the land of the living. Now they carry their shame down with the others in deep earth. They're in the section set aside for the slain.
They're segregated from the heroes, the old-time giants who entered the grave in full battle dress, their swords placed under their heads and their shields covering their bones, those heroes who spread terror through the land of the living.
"And you, Egypt, will be dumped in a heathen grave, along with all the rest, in the section set aside for the slain.
"Edom is there, with her kings and princes. In spite of her vaunted greatness, she is dumped in a heathen grave with the others headed for the grave.
"The princes of the north are there, the whole lot of them, and all the Sidonians who carry their shame to their graves - all that terror they spread with their brute power! - dumped in unhallowed ground with those killed in battle, carrying their shame with the others headed for deep earth.
"Pharaoh will see them all and, pompous old goat that he is, take comfort in the company he'll keep - Pharaoh and his slaughtered army. Decree of God, the Master.
"I used him to spread terror in the land of the living and now I'm dumping him in heathen ground with those killed by the sword - Pharaoh and all his pomp. Decree of God, the Master."