Let the wilderness and its cities cry out, the villages where Kedar dwells; Let the inhabitants of Sela exult, and shout from the top of the mountains.
Moab has been resting from its youth, suspended above its dregs, Never poured from flask to flask, never driven into exile. Thus it retained its flavor, its bouquet is not lost.
On that day, messengers from me will go forth in ships to terrorize confident Ethiopia. Anguish will be among them on Egypt’s day—it is certainly coming!
You will say, “I will invade a land of open villages and attack a peaceful people who live in security—all of them living without city walls, bars, or gates”—
Shepherd your people with your staff, the flock of your heritage, That lives apart in a woodland, in the midst of an orchard. Let them feed in Bashan and Gilead, as in the days of old;
Is this the exultant city that dwelt secure, That told itself, “I and there is no one else”? How it has become a waste, a lair for wild animals! Those who pass by it hiss, and shake their fists!
For from the top of the crags I see him, from the heights I behold him. Here is a people that lives apart and does not reckon itself among the nations.