My heart cries with sorrow for Moab. Its people run away to Zoar for safety; they run to Eglath Shelishiyah. People are going up the mountain road to Luhith, crying as they go. People are going on the road to Horonaim, crying over their destruction.
I saw those terrible things, and now I am in pain; my pains are like the pains of giving birth. What I hear makes me very afraid; what I see causes me to shake with fear.
Lord, look down from the heavens and see; look at us from your wonderful and holy home in heaven. Where is your strong love and power? Why are you keeping your love and mercy from us?
“You know that Israel is my dear son, The child I love. Yes, I often speak against Israel, but I still remember him. I love him very much, and I want to comfort him,” says the Lord.
Oh, how I hurt! How I hurt! I am bent over in pain. Oh, the torture in my heart! My heart is pounding inside me. I cannot keep quiet, because I have heard the sound of the trumpet. I have heard the shouts of war.
“My heart cries sadly for Moab like a flute playing a funeral song. It cries like a flute for the people from Kir Hareseth. The money they made has all been taken away.
“Look at me, Lord. I am upset and greatly troubled. My heart is troubled, because I have been so stubborn. Out in the streets, the sword kills; inside the houses, death destroys.
“Israel, how can I give you up? How can I give you away, Israel? I don’t want to make you like Admah or treat you like Zeboiim. My heart beats for you, and my love for you stirs up my pity.