And he will swallow up in this mountain, The mask of the veil, the veil that is upon all the peoples, - And the web that is woven over all the nations.

Loosed are thy ropes, - They cannot strengthen the socket of their mast They have not unfurled a sail Now, can be apportioned spoil, in abundance, The lame, have captured prey!

Yet shall there come to thee - both these, in a moment, in one day, Loss of children and widowhood, - To their full, have they come on thee, Spite of the mass of thine incantations, Spite of the great throng of thy spells.

Thou hast worn thyself out with the mass of thy consultations, - Let them take their stand I pray thee that they may save thee - The dividers of the heavens - The gazers at the stars, They who make known by new moons, Somewhat of the things which shall come upon thee.