He has made me eat gravel, trampled me into the dust;
He took a potsherd to scrape himself, as he sat among the ashes.
Though the lion roars, though the king of beasts cries out, yet the teeth of the young lions are broken;
All day long my enemies taunt me; in their rage, they make my name a curse.
I do not fear, then, thousands of people arrayed against me on every side.
So as not to hear the voice of the charmer or the enchanter with cunning spells.
Bread earned by deceit is sweet, but afterward the mouth is filled with gravel.
Daughter of my people, dress in sackcloth, roll in the ashes. Mourn as for an only child with bitter wailing: “How suddenly the destroyer comes upon us!”
When the news reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, laid aside his robe, covered himself with sackcloth, and sat in ashes.
Which one of you would hand his son a stone when he asks for a loaf of bread,
What father among you would hand his son a snake when he asks for a fish?