Wherefore are ye stricken any more? Ye do add apostasy! Every head is become diseased, and every heart is sick.

And He hath judged between the nations, And hath given a decision to many peoples, And they have beat their swords to ploughshares, And their spears to pruning-hooks, Nation doth not lift up sword unto nation, Nor do they learn any more -- war.

And it hath come to pass, in that day, The remnant of Israel, And the escaped of the house of Jacob, Do not add any more to lean on its smiter, And have leant on Jehovah, The Holy One of Israel, in truth.

And He saith, 'Thou dost not add any more to exult, O oppressed one, virgin daughter of Zidon, To Chittim arise, pass over, Even there -- there is no rest for thee.'

For, lo, Jehovah is coming out of His place, To charge the iniquity of the inhabitant of the earth upon him, And revealed hath the earth her blood, Nor doth she cover any more her slain!'

I, Jehovah, am its keeper, every moment I water it, Lest any lay a charge against it, Night and day I keep it!

I said, I do not see Jah -- Jah! In the land of the living, I do not behold man any more, With the inhabitants of the world.

Thus said thy Lord Jehovah, and thy God, He pleadeth for his people: 'Lo, I have taken out of thy hand the cup of trembling, The goblet, the cup of My fury, Thou dost not add to drink it any more.

And desolate cities they cause to be inhabited. Fear not, for thou art not ashamed, Nor blush, for thou art not confounded, For the shame of thy youth thou forgettest, And the reproach of thy widowhood Thou dost not remember any more.

O the happiness of a man who doth this, And of a son of man who keepeth hold on it, Keeping the sabbath from polluting it, And keeping his hand from doing any evil.

The righteous hath perished, And there is none laying it to heart, And men of kindness are gathered, Without any considering that from the face of evil Gathered is the righteous one.

Violence is not heard any more in thy land, Spoiling and destruction in thy borders, And thou hast called 'Salvation' thy walls, And thy gates, 'Praise.'

It is not said of thee any more, 'Forsaken!' And of thy land it is not said any more, 'Desolate,' For to thee is cried, 'My delight is in her,' And to thy land, 'Married,' For Jehovah hath delighted in thee, And thy land is married.

Sworn hath Jehovah by His right hand, Even by the arm of His strength: 'I give not thy corn any more as food for thine enemies, Nor do sons of a stranger drink thy new wine, For which thou hast laboured.

And I have rejoiced in Jerusalem, And have joyed in My people, And not heard in her any more Is the voice of weeping, and the voice of crying.

There is not thence any more a suckling of days, And an aged man who doth not complete his days, For the youth a hundred years old dieth, And the sinner, a hundred years old, is lightly esteemed.