Babylon’s warriors have stopped fighting; they sit in their strongholds. Their might is exhausted; they have become like women. Babylon’s homes have been set ablaze, her gate bars are shattered.
A sword is against his horses and chariots and against all the foreigners among them, and they will be like women. A sword is against her treasuries, and they will be plundered.
The fire will devour you there; the sword will cut you down. It will devour you like the young locust. Multiply yourselves like the young locust; multiply like the swarming locust!