But upon you shall come an evil you will not be able to charm away; Upon you shall fall a disaster you cannot ward off. Upon you shall suddenly come a ruin you cannot imagine.
But now, what am I to do here? —oracle of the Lord. My people have been taken away for nothing; their rulers mock, oracle of the Lord; constantly, every day, my name is reviled.
Wail, Heshbon, “The ruin is destroyed!” shriek, villages of Rabbah! Put on sackcloth and lament! Run back and forth in the sheepfolds. For Milcom is going into exile, taking priest and prince with him.
When they ask you, “Why are you groaning?” you shall say: Because of what I heard! When it comes every heart shall melt, every hand fall helpless; every spirit will grow faint, and every knee run with water. See, it is coming, it is here!—oracle of the Lord God. Song of the Sword.
Gird yourselves and lament, you priests! wail, ministers of the altar! Come, spend the night in sackcloth, ministers of my God! For the grain offering and the libation are withheld from the house of your God.
Blow the horn in Zion, sound the alarm on my holy mountain! Let all the inhabitants of the land tremble, for the day of the Lord is coming! Yes, it approaches,
The Lord raises his voice at the head of his army; How immense is his host! How numerous those who carry out his command! How great is the day of the Lord! Utterly terrifying! Who can survive it?
They will keep their distance for fear of the torment inflicted on her, and they will say: “Alas, alas, great city, Babylon, mighty city. In one hour your judgment has come.”