Jehovah is slow to anger, and great in power, And Jehovah doth not entirely acquit, In a hurricane and in a tempest is His way, And a cloud is the dust of His feet.

Come up hath a scatterer to thy face, Keep the bulwark, watch the way, Strengthen the loins, strengthen power mightily.

The lion is tearing parts for his whelps, And is strangling for his lionesses, And he doth fill with prey his holes, And his habitations with rapine.

Lo, I am against thee, An affirmation of Jehovah of Hosts, And I have burned in smoke its chariot, And thy young lions consume doth a sword, And I have cut off from the land thy prey, And not heard any more is the voice of thy messengers!

Woe to the city of blood, She is all with lies -- burglary -- full, Prey doth not depart.