An oracle concerning Moab. Because Ar is laid waste in a night Moab is undone; because Kir is laid waste in a night Moab is undone.
The daughter of Dibon has gone up to the high places to weep; over Nebo and over Med'eba Moab wails. On every head is baldness, every beard is shorn;
in the streets they gird on sackcloth; on the housetops and in the squares every one wails and melts in tears.
Heshbon and Ele-a'leh cry out, their voice is heard as far as Jahaz; therefore the armed men of Moab cry aloud; his soul trembles.
My heart cries out for Moab; his fugitives flee to Zo'ar, to Eg'lath-shelish'iyah. For at the ascent of Luhith they go up weeping; on the road to Horona'im they raise a cry of destruction;
the waters of Nimrim are a desolation; the grass is withered, the new growth fails, the verdure is no more.
Therefore the abundance they have gained and what they have laid up they carry away over the Brook of the Willows.
For a cry has gone round the land of Moab; the wailing reaches to Egla'im, the wailing reaches to Beer-e'lim.
For the waters of Dibon are full of blood; yet I will bring upon Dibon even more, a lion for those of Moab who escape, for the remnant of the land.