The gates of the rivers are opened, And the palace is melted away.
He remembers his mighty ones; They stumble in their march; They hurry to her wall, And the mantelet is set up.
So it stands fixed: She is exiled, she is carried away, And her maidservants are moaning like the sound of doves, Beating on their hearts.
Behold, your people are women in your midst! The gates of your land are opened wide to your enemies; Fire consumes your gate bars.