Bow and javelin they take hold of, Fierce it is, and they have no mercy, Their voice as a sea doth sound, And on horses they ride, set in array as a man of war, Against thee, O daughter of Zion.

Gird the horses, and go up, ye horsemen, And station yourselves with helmets, Polish the javelins, put on the coats of mail.

They grasp bow and javelin.
They are cruel and show no mercy.
Their voice roars like the sea,
and they ride on horses,
lined up like men in battle formation
against you, Daughter Babylon.