A God zealous and avenging is Jehovah, An avenger is Jehovah, and possessing fury. An avenger is Jehovah on His adversaries, And He is watching for His enemies.

Before His indignation who doth stand? And who riseth up in the heat of His anger? His fury hath been poured out like fire, And the rocks have been broken by Him.

Good is Jehovah for a strong place in a day of distress. And He knoweth those trusting in Him.

For while princes are perplexed, And with their drink are drunken, They have been consumed as stubble fully dried.

And commanded concerning thee hath Jehovah, 'No more of thy name doth spread abroad, From the house of thy gods I cut off graven and molten image, I appoint thy grave, for thou hast been vile.

Lo, on the mountains the feet of one proclaiming tidings, sounding peace! Celebrate, O Judah, thy festivals, complete thy vows, For add no more to pass over into thee doth the worthless, He hath been completely cut off!

For turned back hath Jehovah to the excellency of Jacob, As to the excellency of Israel, For emptied them out have emptiers, And their branches they have marred.

In out-places shine do the chariots, They go to and fro in broad places, Their appearances are like torches, As lightnings they run.

Where is the habitation of lionesses? And a feeding-place it is for young lions Where walked hath a lion, an old lion, A lion's whelp, and there is none troubling.

The lion is tearing parts for his whelps, And is strangling for his lionesses, And he doth fill with prey his holes, And his habitations with rapine.

And it hath come to pass, Each of thy beholders fleeth from thee, And hath said: 'Spoiled is Nineveh, Who doth bemoan for her?' Whence do I seek comforters for thee?

Cush her might, and Egypt, and there is no end. Put and Lubim have been for thy help.

Even she doth become an exile, She hath gone into captivity, Even her sucklings are dashed to pieces At the top of all out-places, And for her honoured ones they cast a lot, And all her great ones have been bound in fetters.

Lo, thy people are women in thy midst, To thine enemies thoroughly opened Have been the gates of thy land, Consumed hath fire thy bars.

Waters of a siege draw for thyself, Strengthen thy fortresses, Enter into mire, and tread on clay, Make strong a brick-kiln.

There consume thee doth a fire, Cut thee off doth a sword, It doth consume thee as a cankerworm! Make thyself heavy as the cankerworm, Make thyself heavy as the locust.

There is no weakening of thy destruction, Grievous is thy smiting, All hearing thy fame have clapped the hand at thee, For over whom did not thy wickedness pass continually?