At even-time, lo, terror, before morning it is not, This is the portion of our spoilers, And the lot of our plunderers!

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!

At that time brought is a present to Jehovah of Hosts, A nation drawn out and peeled. Even of a people fearful from the beginning hitherto, A nation meting out by line, and treading down, Whose land floods have spoiled, Unto the place of the name of Jehovah of Hosts -- mount Zion!'

Instead of your shame and confusion, A second time they sing of their portion, Therefore in their land A second time do they take possession, Joy age-during is for them.