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.

What do we devise against Jehovah? An end He is making, arise not twice doth distress.

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.

Thy crowned ones are as a locust, And thy princes as great grasshoppers, That encamp in hedges in a day of cold, The sun hath risen, and it doth flee away, And not known is its place where they are.

There is no weakening of thy destruction, Grievous is thy smiting, All hearing thy fame have clapped the hand at thee, For over whom did not thy wickedness pass continually?