All your fortresses are like fig trees with their first ripe fruit;1 when they are shaken, the figs2 fall into the mouth of the eater.
Look at your troops-- they are all women!3 The gates4 of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire has consumed their bars.514
Draw water for the siege,6 strengthen your defenses!7 Work the clay, tread the mortar, repair the brickwork!
There the fire8 will devour you; the sword9 will cut you down and, like grasshoppers, consume you. Multiply like grasshoppers, multiply like locusts!1016
You have increased the number of your merchants till they are more than the stars of the sky, but like locusts11 they strip the land and then fly away.
Your guards are like locusts,12 your officials like swarms of locusts that settle in the walls on a cold day-- but when the sun appears they fly away, and no one knows where.
O king of Assyria, your shepherdsa slumber;13 your nobles lie down to rest.14 Your people are scattered15 on the mountains with no one to gather them.
Nothing can heal your wound;16 your injury is fatal. Everyone who hears the news about you claps his hands17 at your fall, for who has not felt your endless cruelty?18