My heart cries out for Moab. Her fugitives are as far as Zoar as a three year old heifer, for by the ascent of Luhith they go up with weeping, for on the way of Horonaim they raise a cry of distress.
In that day—declares Adonai— there will be the sound of screaming from the Fish Gate, wailing from the second district and a loud crash from the heights.