[1] Woe to the bloody city, all full of lies and plunder— no end to the prey!
[2] The crack of the whip, and rumble of the wheel, galloping horse and bounding chariot!
[3] Horsemen charging, flashing sword and glittering spear, hosts of slain, heaps of corpses, dead bodies without end— they stumble over the bodies!
[4] And all for the countless whorings of the prostitute, graceful and of deadly charms, who betrays nations with her whorings, and peoples with her charms.
[5] Behold, I am against you, declares the LORD of hosts, and will lift up your skirts over your face; and I will make nations look at your nakedness and kingdoms at your shame.
[6] I will throw filth at you and treat you with contempt and make you a spectacle.
[7] And all who look at you will shrink from you and say, Wasted is Nineveh; who will grieve for her? Where shall I seek comforters for you?
[8] Are you better than Thebes that sat by the Nile, with water around her, her rampart a sea, and water her wall?
[9] Cush was her strength; Egypt too, and that without limit; Put and the Libyans were her helpers.
[10] Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity; her infants were dashed in pieces at the head of every street; for her honored men lots were cast, and all her great men were bound in chains.
[11] You also will be drunken; you will go into hiding; you will seek a refuge from the enemy.
[12] All your fortresses are like fig trees with first-ripe figs— if shaken they fall into the mouth of the eater.
[13] Behold, your troops are women in your midst. The gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire has devoured your bars.
[14] Draw water for the siege; strengthen your forts; go into the clay; tread the mortar; take hold of the brick mold!
[15] There will the fire devour you; the sword will cut you off. It will devour you like the locust. Multiply yourselves like the locust; multiply like the grasshopper!
[16] You increased your merchants more than the stars of the heavens. The locust spreads its wings and flies away.
[17] Your princes are like grasshoppers, your scribes like clouds of locusts settling on the fences in a day of cold— when the sun rises, they fly away; no one knows where they are.
[18] Your shepherds are asleep, O king of Assyria; your nobles slumber. Your people are scattered on the mountains with none to gather them.
[19] There is no easing your hurt; your wound is grievous. All who hear the news about you clap their hands over you. For upon whom has not come your unceasing evil?