1 Woe to the city of blood, || She is all full with lies and burglary, || Prey does not depart. 2 The sound of a whip, || And the sound of the rattling of a wheel, || And of a prancing horse, and of a bounding chariot, || Of a horseman mounting. 3 And the flame of a sword, and the lightning of a spear, || And the abundance of the wounded, || And the weight of carcasses, || Indeed, there is no end to the bodies, || They stumble over their bodies. 4 Because of the abundance of the fornications of a harlot, || The goodness of the grace of the lady of witchcrafts, || Who is selling nations by her fornications, || And families by her witchcrafts. 5 “Behold, I am against you,” || A declaration of YHWH of Hosts, || “And have removed your skirts before your face, || And have showed nations your nakedness, || And kingdoms your shame, 6 And I have cast on you abominations, || And dishonored you, and made you as a sight. 7 And it has come to pass, || Each of your beholders flees from you, || And has said: Nineveh is spoiled, || Who bemoans for her? From where do I seek comforters for you?” 8 Are you better than No-Ammon, || That is dwelling among brooks? Waters she has around her, || Whose bulwark is the sea, waters her wall. 9 Cush her might, and Egypt, and there is no end. Put and Lubim have been for your help. 10 Even she becomes an exile, || She has gone into captivity, || Even her sucklings are dashed to pieces || At the top of all out-places, || And for her honored ones they cast a lot, || And all her great ones have been bound in chains. 11 Even you are drunken, you are hidden, || Even you seek a strong place, because of an enemy. 12 All your fortresses are fig trees with first-fruits, || If they are shaken, || They have fallen into the mouth of the eater. 13 Behold, your people are women in your midst, || To your enemies thoroughly opened || Have been the gates of your land, || Fire has consumed your bars. 14 Waters of a siege draw for yourself, || Strengthen your fortresses, || Enter into mire, and tread on clay, || Make strong a brick-kiln. 15 There a fire consumes you, || A sword cuts you off, || It consumes you as a cankerworm! Make yourself heavy as the cankerworm, || Make yourself heavy as the locust. 16 Multiply your merchants above the stars of the heavens, || The cankerworm has stripped off, and flees away. 17 Your crowned ones are as a locust, || And your princes as great grasshoppers, || That encamp in hedges in a day of cold, || The sun has risen, and it flees away, || And its place where they are is not known. 18 Your friends have slumbered, king of Asshur, || Your majestic ones rest, || Your people have been scattered on the mountains, || And there is none gathering. 19 There is no weakening of your destruction, || Your striking is grievous, || All hearing your fame have clapped the hand at you, || For over whom did your wickedness not pass continually?