Yahweh, is slow to anger, but great in vigour, He will not leave, unpunished, as for Yahweh, in storm-wind and in tempest, is his way, and, clouds, are the dust of his feet.

Before his indignation, who shall stand? And who shall abide the glow of his anger? His wrath, hath been poured forth like fire, and, the rocks, have been broken down because of him.

Then will Yahweh give command concerning thee, None of thy name shall be sown any more, - out of the house of thy gods, will I cut off carved image and molten image, I will appoint thy grave, for thou art of little esteem.

Lo! upon the mountains, The feet of one, who bringeth Good Tidings! who publisheth Prosperity! Celebrate, O Judah, thy pilgrim festivals, fulfil thy vows, for, not again, any more, shall the Abandoned One, pass through thee, he hath been wholly cut off.

For Yahweh hath restored the excellency of Jacob, like the excellency of Israel, - for the plunderers have plundered them, and, their vine branches, have they marred.

The shield of his heroes, is made red, the men of war, are clad in crimson, on fire, are the chariot-steels, on the day he maketh ready, - and, the lances, are put in motion.

Yet, as for Nineveh, like a reservoir of waters, are her waters, - but, those men, are in flight! Stand! stand but no one is turning.

The lion, used to tear in pieces enough for his whelps, and to strangle for his lionesses, - and then fill with prey his holes, and his lairs with what he had torn.

Alas for the city of bloodshed! All of it, deceit, of violence full, none releaseth prey!

Because of the multitude of the unchaste doings of the unchaste one, fair in grace, mistress of secret arts, - who hath been selling nations by her unchaste doings, families by her secret arts,

Yet, she, was given up to exile, she went into captivity, even her babes, were dashed to the ground, at the head of all the streets, - and, for her honourable men, cast they lots, and, all her great men, were bound together in chains.

Lo! thy people, are women, in thy midst, to thy foes, have been set wide open the gates of thy and, - a fire, hath devoured, thy bars.

Siege-water, draw for thyself, strengthen thy fortresses, - go into the clay, and tread thou the mortar, make strong the brick.

There, shall a fire devour thee, the sword, shall cut thee off, it shall devour thee like the grass locust, make thyself numerous like the grass locust, make thyself numerous as the swarming locust:

No lessening of thine injury, grievous is thy wound, - all who have heard the report of thee, have clapped their hands over thee, for, upon whom, hath not thy cruelty passed without ceasing?