He hath gone up to Bayith and Dibon, to the high places, to weep, - On Nebo and on Medeba, Moab is howling, On all their heads, a baldness, Every beard, clipped.

Bel, hath crouched, Nebo, is cowering, Their images, are delivered up to beast and to cattle, - The things ye carried about, are become a load, A burden, to the weary!