Come down, and sit on the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon, Sit on the earth, there is no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans, For no more do they cry to thee, `O tender and delicate one.'
Take millstones, and grind flour, Remove thy veil, draw up the skirt, Uncover the leg, pass over the floods.
Revealed is thy nakedness, yea, seen is thy reproach, Vengeance I take, and I meet not a man.
Our redeemer [is] Jehovah of Hosts, His name [is] the Holy One of Israel.
Sit silent, and go into darkness, O daughter of the Chaldeans, For no more do they cry to thee, `Mistress of kingdoms.'
I have been wroth against My people, I have polluted Mine inheritance And I give them into thy hand, Thou hast not appointed for them mercies, On the aged thou hast made thy yoke very heavy,