On that day, Tyre shall be forgotten for seventy years, the lifetime of one king. At the end of seventy years, the song about the prostitute will be Tyre’s song:
Be ashamed, Sidon, fortress on the sea, for the sea has spoken, “I have not been in labor, nor given birth, nor raised young men, nor reared young women.”
Hear the word of the Lord, you nations, proclaim it on distant coasts, and say: The One who scattered Israel, now gathers them; he guards them as a shepherd his flock.
Because of the day that is coming to destroy all the Philistines And cut off from Tyre and Sidon the last of their allies. Yes, the Lord is destroying the Philistines, the remnant from the coasts of Caphtor.
Your wealth, your goods, your wares, your sailors, your crew, The caulkers of your seams, those who traded for your goods, All the warriors with you, the whole crowd with you Sank into the heart of the sea on the day of your downfall.
Son of man, Nebuchadnezzar, the king of Babylon, has made his army wage a hard campaign against Tyre; their heads grew bald, their shoulders rubbed raw, yet neither he nor his army received compensation from Tyre for all the effort they expended against it.
There are the generals of the north and all the Sidonians Who have gone down with the slain, because of the terror their might inspired. They lie uncircumcised with those slain by the sword, And bear their shame with those who have gone down into the pit.