He is pushing against a sea, and drieth it up, Yea, all the floods He hath made dry, Languishing are Bashan and Carmel, Yea, the flower of Lebanon is languishing.

Mountains have shaken because of Him, And the hills have been melted; And lifted up is the earth at His presence, And the world and all dwelling in it.

For while princes are perplexed, And with their drink are drunken, They have been consumed as stubble fully dried.

He doth remember his honourable ones, They stumble in their goings, They hasten to its wall, and prepared is the covering.

Seize ye silver, seize ye gold, And there is no end to the prepared things, To the abundance of all desirable vessels.

She is empty, yea, emptiness and waste, And the heart hath melted, And the knees have smitten together, And great pain is in all loins, And the faces of all of them have gathered paleness.

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

The sound of a whip, And the sound of the rattling of a wheel, And of a prancing horse, and of a bounding chariot, Of a horseman mounting.

Art thou better than No-Ammon, That is dwelling among brooks? Waters she hath round about her, Whose bulwark is the sea, waters her wall.

Even she doth become an exile, She hath gone into captivity, Even her sucklings are dashed to pieces At the top of all out-places, And for her honoured ones they cast a lot, And all her great ones have been bound in fetters.

All thy fortresses are fig-trees with first-fruits, If they are shaken, They have fallen into the mouth of the eater.

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?