And this greatly troubled the heart of the sovereign of Aram. And he called his servants and said to them, “Declare to me! Who of us is for the sovereign of Yisra’ĕl?”
Isaiah 57:20 - The Scriptures 2009 But the wrong are like the troubled sea, for it is unable to rest, and its waters cast up mud and dirt. Dugang nga mga bersyonKing James Version (Oxford) 1769 But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. Amplified Bible - Classic Edition But the wicked are like the troubled sea, for it cannot rest, and its waters cast up mire and dirt. American Standard Version (1901) But the wicked are like the troubled sea; for it cannot rest, and its waters cast up mire and dirt. Common English Bible But the wicked are like the churning sea that can’t keep still. They churn up from their waters muck and mud. Catholic Public Domain Version But the impious are like the raging sea, which is not able to be quieted, and its waves stir up dirt and mud. Douay-Rheims version of The Bible - 1752 version But the wicked are like the raging sea which cannot rest: and the waves thereof cast up dirt and mire. |
And this greatly troubled the heart of the sovereign of Aram. And he called his servants and said to them, “Declare to me! Who of us is for the sovereign of Yisra’ĕl?”
“Woe to the wrong – evil! For the reward of his hand is done to him.
The look on their faces witnesses against them, and they declare their sin as Seḏom; they do not hide it. Woe to their being! For they have brought evil upon themselves.
The way of peace they have not known, and there is no right-ruling in their ways. They have made crooked paths for themselves, whoever treads in them shall not know peace.
Concerning Dammeseq: “Ḥamath and Arpaḏ have been put to shame, for they have heard an evil report. They have been melted in anxiety, like the sea, unable to rest.
These are rocky reefs in your love feasts, feasting with you, feeding themselves without fear, waterless clouds borne about by the winds, late autumn trees without fruit, twice dead, pulled up by the roots,
wild waves of the sea foaming up their own shame, straying stars for whom blackness of darkness is kept forever.