the Week of Christ the King / Proper 29 / Ordinary 34
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Literal Standard Version
Isaiah 23
1 The Burden of Tyre. Howl, you ships of Tarshish, || For it has been destroyed, || Without house, without entrance, || From the land of Chittim it was revealed to them.2 Be silent, you inhabitants of the island, || Trader of Sidon, passing the sea, they filled you.3 And the seed of Sihor [is] in many waters, || Her increase [is] the harvest of the brook, || And she is a market of nations.4 Be ashamed, O Sidon; for the sea spoke, || The strength of the sea, saying, "I have not been pained, nor have I brought forth, || Nor have I nourished young men, [nor] brought up virgins."5 As they are pained [at] the report of Egypt, || So [at] the report of Tyre.6 Pass over to Tarshish, howl, you inhabitants of the island,7 Is this your exulting one? Her antiquity [is] from the days of old, || Her own feet carry her far off to sojourn.8 Who has counseled this against Tyre, || The crowning one, whose traders [are] princes, || Her merchants—the honored of earth?9 YHWH of Hosts has counseled it, || To defile the excellence of all beauty, || To make light all the honored of earth.10 Pass through your land as a brook, || Daughter of Tarshish, || There is no longer a girdle.11 He has stretched out His hand over the sea, || He has caused kingdoms to tremble, || YHWH has charged concerning the merchant one, || To destroy her strong places.12 And He says, "You do not add to exult anymore, || O oppressed one, virgin daughter of Sidon, || To Chittim arise, pass over, || Even there—there is no rest for you."13 Behold, the land of the Chaldeans—this people was not, || Asshur founded it for desert-dwellers, || They raised its watchtowers, || They lifted up her palaces—He has appointed her for a ruin!14 Howl, you ships of Tarshish, || For your strength has been destroyed.
15 And it has come to pass in that day, || That Tyre is forgotten seventy years, || According to the days of one king. At the end of seventy years there is to Tyre as the song of the harlot.16 Take a harp, go around the city, O forgotten harlot, play well, || Multiply song that you may be remembered.17 And it has come to pass, || At the end of seventy years YHWH inspects Tyre, || And she has returned to her wage, || And she committed fornication || With all kingdoms of the earth on the face of the ground.18 And her merchandise and her wage have been holy to YHWH, || Not treasured up nor stored, || For her merchandise is to those sitting before YHWH, || To eat to satiety, and for a lasting covering!
Literal Standard Version
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