Who can stand before his fury? And who can endure his fierce anger? His displeasure pours out like fire, and rocks are broken to pieces because of him.

Indeed, while tangled as by a thorn bush, while drunken as by a strong drink, the Ninevites will be burned like dry straw.

Their chariots storm through the streets, jostling each other along broad avenues. They look like torches, as they dart around like lightning.

It has been determined: The woman is unveiled and sent away, her servant girls mourn. Beating their breasts, they whimper like doves.

All your defenses are like fig trees with ripe early fruit when shaken, it falls right into the devourer's mouth.

In that place fire will consume you, the sword will cut you down, consuming you as locusts do. Multiply yourself like locusts, increase like swarming grasshoppers.

Your imperial guards are like the swarming grasshopper; your marshals are like hordes of grasshoppers, settling in the stone walls on a chilly day. The sun rises, and they flee away; no one knows where they went.