Balaam proclaimed his poem:

Balak brought me from Aram;
the king of Moab, from the eastern mountains:
“Come, put a curse on Jacob for me;
come, denounce Israel!”

Who has counted the dust of Jacob
or numbered the dust clouds of Israel?
Let me die the death of the upright;
let the end of my life be like theirs.

He considers no disaster for Jacob;
He sees no trouble for Israel.
The Lord their God is with them,
and there is rejoicing over the King among them.

There is no magic curse against Jacob
and no divination against Israel.
It will now be said about Jacob and Israel,
“What great things God has done!”

How beautiful are your tents, Jacob,
your dwellings, Israel.

I see him, but not now;
I perceive him, but not near.
A star will come from Jacob,
and a scepter will arise from Israel.
He will smash the forehead of Moab
and strike down all the Shethites.

One who comes from Jacob will rule;
he will destroy the city’s survivors.

‘Because they did not follow Me completely, none of the men 20 years old or more who came up from Egypt will see the land I swore to give Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob—