Without Me it hath bowed down In the place of a bound one, And in the place of the slain they fall. With all this not turned back hath His anger, And still His hand is stretched out.
Therefore hath the anger of Jehovah burned among His people, And He stretcheth out His hand against it, And smiteth it, and the mountains tremble, And their carcase is as filth in the midst of the out-places. With all this His anger did not turn back, And still His hand is stretched out!
Aram from before, and Philistia from behind, And they devour Israel with the whole mouth. With all this not turned back hath His anger, And still His hand is stretched out.
Therefore, over its young men the Lord rejoiceth not, And its orphans, and its widows He pitieth not, For every one `is' profane, and an evil doer, And every mouth is speaking folly. With all this not turned back hath His anger, And still His hand is stretched out.
Manasseh -- Ephraim, and Ephraim -- Manasseh, Together they `are' against Judah, With all this not turned back hath His anger. And still His hand is stretched out!
Howl, ye shepherds, and cry, And roll yourselves, ye honourable of the flock, For full have been your days, For slaughtering, and `for' your scatterings, And ye have fallen as a desirable vessel.
The fierceness of the anger of Jehovah Doth not turn back till His doing, Yea, till His establishing the devices of His heart, In the latter end of the days we consider it!
O daughter of My people, Gird on sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes, The mourning of an only one make for thee, A lamentation most bitter, For suddenly come doth the spoiler against us.
`Is it' nothing to you, all ye passing by the way? Look attentively, and see, If there is any pain like my pain, That He is rolling to me? Whom Jehovah hath afflicted In the day of the fierceness of His anger.
Cry and howl, son of man, For it hath been among My people, It `is' among all the princes of Israel, Cast unto the sword have been My people. Therefore strike on thy thigh,
Gird, and lament, ye priests, Howl, ye ministrants of the altar, Come in, lodge in sackcloth, ministrants of my God, For withheld from the house of your God hath been present and libation.
And have turned your festivals to mourning, And all your songs to lamentation, And caused sackcloth to come up on all loins, And on every head -- baldness, And made it as a mourning `of' an only one, And its latter end as a day of bitterness.
And Jehovah saith unto Moses, `Take all the chiefs of the people, and hang them before Jehovah -- over-against the sun; and the fierceness of the anger of Jehovah doth turn back from Israel.'