"Please come, and let's reason together," implores the LORD. "Even though your sins are like scarlet, they'll be white like snow. Though they're like crimson, they'll become like wool.

All of us have become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous acts are like a filthy rag; we all shrivel up like a leaf, and like the wind, our iniquities sweep us away.

"Whoever slaughters an ox is just like one who kills a human being; whoever sacrifices a lamb is just like one who breaks a dog's neck; whoever makes a grain offering is just like one who offers pig's blood; and whoever makes a memorial offering of frankincense is just like one who blesses an idol. Yes, these have chosen their own ways, and they take delight in their contaminated actions.

Isn't Calno like Carchemish? Isn't Hamath like Arpad? Isn't Samaria like Damascus?

"The daughter of Zion is left abandoned, like a booth in a vineyard, like a hut in a cucumber field, or like a city under siege.

The nations roar like the rushing of many waters, but the LORD will rebuke them, and they will run far away, chased like chaff blown down from the mountains or like thick dust that rolls along, blown along by a wind storm.

Their inhabitants are devoid of power, and are terrified and put to shame. They've become like plants in the field, like green shoots, like grass on rooftops, scorched by the east wind.

He's the one who sits above the disk of the earth, and its inhabitants are like grasshoppers. He's the one who stretches out the heavens like a curtain, and spreads them like a tent to live in,

Who is blind except my servant, or deaf like my messenger I am sending? Who is blind like the one committed to me, or blind like the LORD's servant?

Let's grope along the wall like the blind; let us grope like those who have no eyes. We stumble at midday as if it were twilight, in desolate places like dead people.

"I will heartily rejoice in the LORD, my soul will delight in my God; for he has wrapped me in garments of salvation; he has arrayed me in a robe of righteousness, just like a bridegroom, like a priest with a garland, and like a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

Their arrows are sharp, all their bows ready for action. Their horses' hooves seem like flint, and their chariot wheels spin like a whirlwind.

With a roar like a lion, they snarl, and like young lions, they growl; they seize their prey and then carry it off, with no one to rescue.

"Listen! There's a noise on the mountains like that of a great multitude! Listen! There's an uproar among the kingdoms, like that of nations massing together! The LORD of the Heavenly Armies is mustering an army for battle.

They will be like a hunted gazelle, or like sheep with no one to gather them, each will turn to his own people, and each will flee to his own land.

But you are cast away from your grave, like a repulsive branch, your clothing is the slain, those pierced by the sword; those who go down to the Pit. Like a dead body trampled underfoot,

If the Lord of the Heavenly Armies hadn't left us a few survivors, we would be like Sodom; we would be like Gomorrah.

You'll be like an oak whose leaf is withering, like an unwatered garden.

Look! The LORD has one who is mighty and strong, like a hailstorm and destructive tempest, like a storm of mighty, overflowing water and he will give rest to the land.

"But the hordes of your enemies will become like fine dust, and the hordes of tyrants like flying chaff. Then suddenly, in an instant,

A thousand will flee at the threat of one; and run away, pursued by five, until you are left like a flagpole on a mountaintop, like a banner on a hill."

Moreover, the light of the moon will be like the light of the sun, and the sun's light will be seven times brighter, like the light of seven full days, when the LORD binds up the bruises of his people and heals the wounds inflicted by his blow.

Each one will be like a shelter from the wind and a hiding place from storms, like streams of water in the desert, in the shadow of a great rock in an exhausted land.

The valleys will be split, all the stars in the heavens will fall down, and the skies will be rolled up like a scroll. All their starry host will fade away like leaves withering on a vine, or fruit withering on a fig tree.

Like fluttering birds, like an abandoned nest, so are the daughters of Moab at the fords of the Arnon River.