Beyond the weeping of Jazer, will I weep for thee O vine of Sibmah, Thy tendrils, have gone over the sea, Unto the sea of Jazer, have they reached, Upon thy summer fruits And upon thy vintage, the spoiler, hath fallen.

Thine own way And thine own doings, Have done these things unto thee, - This thy wickedness, Surely it is bitter, Surely it hath reached unto thy heart.

Neither shall they break bread to them in mourning To console one over his dead, - Nor cause them to drink the cup of consolation, Over ones father Or over ones mother;

Then shalt thou say unto them - Thus, saith Yahweh of hosts, God of Israel - Behold me! sending and fetching Nebuchadrezzar king of Babylon, my servant, and I will set his throne over these stones which I have hid, - and he shall spread his canopy over them.