Instead of perfume there will be stench, instead of a girdle, a rope, And instead of elaborate coiffure, baldness; instead of a rich gown, a sackcloth skirt. Then, instead of beauty, shame.
A cry is heard on the heights! the plaintive weeping of Israel’s children, Because they have perverted their way, they have forgotten the Lord, their God.
Thus says the Lord: See: waters are rising from the north, to become a torrent in flood; They shall flood the land and all it contains, the cities and their inhabitants. People will howl and wail, every inhabitant of the land.
Concerning Moab. Thus says the Lord of hosts, the God of Israel: Ah, Nebo! it is ravaged; Kiriathaim is disgraced, captured; Disgraced and overthrown is the stronghold:
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.
Cut off your hair and throw it away! on the heights raise a lament; The Lord has indeed rejected and cast off the generation that draws down his wrath.
I will turn your feasts into mourning and all your songs into dirges. I will cover the loins of all with sackcloth and make every head bald. I will make it like the time of mourning for an only child, and its outcome like a day of bitter weeping.
Then Moses went up from the plains of Moab to Mount Nebo, the peak of Pisgah which faces Jericho, and the Lord showed him all the land—Gilead, and as far as Dan,