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Judgment Against Nineveh

¹ Woe to the city of blood, full of lies, full of plunder, never without prey.² The crack of the whip, the rumble of the wheel, galloping horse and bounding chariot!³ Charging horseman, flashing sword, shining spear; heaps of slain, mounds of corpses, dead bodies without end—they stumble over their dead—⁴ because of the many harlotries of the harlot, the seductive mistress of sorcery, who betrays nations by her prostitution and clans by her witchcraft.⁵ “Behold, I am against you,” declares the LORD of Hosts. “I will lift your skirts over your face. I will show your nakedness to the nations and your shame to the kingdoms.⁶ I will pelt you with filth and treat you with contempt; I will make a spectacle of you.⁷ Then all who see you will recoil from you and say, ‘Nineveh is devastated; who will grieve for her?’ Where can I find comforters for you?”

^{8 (a)}Are you better than Thebes, situated by the Nile with water around her, whose rampart was the sea, whose wall was the water?⁹ Cush^(a) and Egypt were her boundless strength; Put and Libya were her allies.¹⁰ Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity. Her infants were dashed to pieces at the head of every street. They cast lots for her dignitaries, and all her nobles were bound in chains.¹¹ You too will become drunk; You will go into hiding and seek refuge from the enemy.¹² All your fortresses are fig trees with the first ripe figs; when shaken, they fall into the mouth of the eater!¹³ Behold, your troops are like your women; the gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire consumes their bars.¹⁴ Draw your water for the siege; strengthen your fortresses. Work the clay and tread the mortar; repair the brick kiln!¹⁵ There the fire will devour you; the sword will cut you down and consume you like a young locust. Make yourself many like the young locust; make yourself many like the swarming locust!¹⁶ You have multiplied your merchants more than the stars of the sky. The young locust strips the land and flies away.¹⁷ Your guardsmen^(a) are like the swarming locust, and your scribes^(a) like clouds of locusts, that settle on the walls on a cold day. When the sun rises, they fly away, and no one knows where.¹⁸ O king of Assyria, your shepherds slumber; your officers sleep. Your people are scattered on the mountains with no one to gather them.¹⁹ There is no healing for your injury; your wound is severe. All who hear the news of you will applaud your downfall, for who has not experienced your endless cruelty?