For in that day despise doth each His idols of silver, and his idols of gold, That your hands made to you -- a sin.

And Jehovah hath delighted to bruise him, He hath made him sick, If his soul doth make an offering for guilt, He seeth seed -- he prolongeth days, And the pleasure of Jehovah in his hand doth prosper.

I have been wroth against My people, I have polluted Mine inheritance And I give them into thy hand, Thou hast not appointed for them mercies, On the aged thou hast made thy yoke very heavy,

And all these My hand hath made, And all these things are, An affirmation of Jehovah! And unto this one I look attentively, Unto the humble and bruised in spirit, And who is trembling at My word.

Because ye have said: 'We have made a covenant with death, And with Sheol we have made a provision, An overflowing scourge, when it passeth over, Doth not meet us, Though we have made a lie our refuge, And in falsehood have been hidden.'

Even this from Jehovah of Hosts hath gone out, He hath made counsel wonderful, He hath made wisdom great!

For, arranged from former time is Tophet, Even it for the king is prepared, He hath made deep, He hath made large, Its pile is fire and much wood, The breath of Jehovah, As a stream of brim stone, is burning in it!