1 The burden of Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish, for it is laid waste, so that there is no house, no entering in; from the land of Chittim it is revealed to them.
2 Be still, ye inhabitants of the isle; thou mart of Zidon, that by passing over the sea thou wert replenished.
3 Her provision was from the plantings that grow with the many waters of the Nile, of the harvest of the river. She was also the mart of the Gentiles.
4 Be thou ashamed, O Zidon, for the sea has spoken, even the strength of the sea, saying, I have never travailed nor brought forth children, neither did I nourish up young men nor bring up virgins.
5 When the report comes unto Egypt, they shall be sorely pained at the news from Tyre.
6 Pass ye over to Tarshish; howl, ye inhabitants of the isle.
7 Is this your joyous city, whose antiquity is of ancient days? Her own feet shall carry her afar off to sojourn.