And I have poured on thee Mine indignation, With fire of My wrath I blow against thee, And have given thee into the hand of brutish men -- artificers of destruction.

A gathering of silver, and brass, and iron, and lead, and tin, Unto the midst of a furnace -- to blow on it fire, to melt it, So do I gather in Mine anger and in My fury, And I have let rest, and have melted you.

Clothed with blue -- governors and prefects, Desirable young men all of them, Horsemen, riding on horses,

The choice of the flock to take, And also to pile of the bones under it, Boil it thoroughly, yea, cook its bones in its midst.

Therefore, thus said the Lord Jehovah: Woe to the city of blood, yea, I -- I make great the pile.

Therefore, lo, I am opening the shoulder of Moab -- From the cities -- from his cities -- from his frontier, The beauty of the land, Beth-Jeshimoth, Baal-Meon, and Kiriathaim,

Of fine linen with embroidery from Egypt hath been thy sail, To be to thee for an ensign, Of blue and purple from isles of Elishah hath been thy covering.

They are thy merchants for perfect things, For wrappings of blue, and embroidery, And for treasuries of rich apparel, With cords bound and girded, for thy merchandise,

And their head they do not shave, and the lock they do not send forth; they certainly poll their heads.

And he saith unto me, 'This is the place where the priests do boil the guilt-offering and the sin-offering, where they bake the present, so as not to bring it out unto the outer court, to sanctify the people.'

And he saith unto me, 'These are the houses of those boiling where the ministrants of the house boil the sacrifice of the people.'