O daughter of My people, Gird on sackcloth, and roll thyself in ashes, The mourning of an only one make for thee, A lamentation most bitter, For suddenly come doth the spoiler against us.

Cut off thy crown, and cast it away, And lift up on high places lamentation, For Jehovah hath rejected, And He leaveth the generation of His wrath.

For the mountains I lift up weeping and wailing, And for the habitations of the wilderness a lamentation, For they have been burnt up without any passing over, Nor have they heard the voice of cattle, From the fowl of the heavens unto the beast they have fled, they have gone.

But hear, ye women, a word of Jehovah, And your ear receiveth a word of His mouth, And teach ye your daughters wailing, and each her neighbour lamentation.

On all roofs of Moab, and in her broad-places, All of it -- is lamentation, For I have broken Moab as a vessel in which there is no pleasure, An affirmation of Jehovah.