So Micaiah said: “I see all Israel scattered on the mountains, like sheep without a shepherd, And the Lord saying, These have no master! Let each of them go back home in peace.”
Lost sheep were my people, their shepherds misled them, leading them astray on the mountains; From mountain to hill they wandered, forgetting their fold.
As I watched, a great stormwind came from the North, a large cloud with flashing fire, a bright glow all around it, and something like polished metal gleamed at the center of the fire.
For the teraphim have spoken nonsense, the diviners have seen false visions; Deceitful dreams they have told, empty comfort they have offered. This is why they wandered like sheep, wretched, for they have no shepherd.
Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, against the one who is my associate —oracle of the Lord of hosts. Strike the shepherd that the sheep may be scattered; I will turn my hand against the little ones.
The oracle of one who hears what God says, and knows what the Most High knows, Of one who sees what the Almighty sees, in rapture and with eyes unveiled:
When he disembarked and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, for they were like sheep without a shepherd; and he began to teach them many things.
(In former times in Israel, anyone who went to consult God used to say, “Come, let us go to the seer.” For the one who is now called prophet was formerly called seer.)