Lo, on the mountains the feet of one proclaiming tidings, sounding peace! Celebrate, O Judah, thy festivals, complete thy vows, For add no more to pass over into thee doth the worthless, He hath been completely cut off!

And it hath come to pass, Each of thy beholders fleeth from thee, And hath said: 'Spoiled is Nineveh, Who doth bemoan for her?' Whence do I seek comforters for thee?

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?