When one layeth hold on his brother, Of the house of his father, by the garment, 'Come, a ruler thou art to us, And this ruin is under thy hand.'

The burden of Damascus. Lo, Damascus is taken away from being a city, And it hath been a heap -- a ruin.

Lo, the land of the Chaldeans -- this people was not, Asshur founded it for the Ziim, They raised its watch-towers, They lifted up her palaces, -- He hath appointed her for a ruin!

For Thou didst make of a city a heap, Of a fenced city a ruin, A high place of strangers from being a city, To the age it is not built.

Because thy wastes, and thy desolate places, And the land of thy ruins, Surely now are straitened because of inhabitants, And far off have been those consuming thee.

In righteousness thou establishest thyself, Be far from oppression, for thou fearest not, And from ruin, for it cometh not near unto thee.