1 Woe to the bloody city! it is all full of lies and robbery; the victim departs not;
2 The noise of a whip, and the noise of the rattling of the wheels, and of the prancing horses, and of the jolting chariots.
3 The horseman lifts up both the bright sword and the glittering spear: and there is a multitude of slain, and a great number of dead bodies; and there is no end of their corpses; they stumble over the corpses:
4 Because of the multitude of the harlotries of the seductive harlot, the mistress of sorceries, that sells nations through her harlotries, and peoples through her sorceries.
5 Behold, I am against you,
6 And I will cast abominable filth upon you, and make you vile, and will make you a spectacle.
7 And it shall come to pass, that all they that look upon you shall flee from you, and say, Nineveh is laid waste: who will bemoan her? where shall I seek comforters for you?
8 Are you better than No Amon, that was situated among the rivers, that had the waters round about it, whose rampart was the sea, and her wall was the sea?
9 Ethiopia and Egypt were her strength, and it was without limit; Put and Lubim were your helpers.
10 Yet was she carried away, she went into captivity: her young children also were dashed in pieces at the head of all the streets: and they cast lots for her honorable men, and all her great men were bound in chains.
11 You also shall be drunk: you shall be hidden, you also shall seek refuge from the enemy.
12 All your strongholds shall be like fig trees with the first ripe figs: if they are shaken, they shall even fall into the mouth of the eater.
13 Behold, your troops in the midst of you are women: the gates of your land shall be set wide open unto your enemies: the fire shall devour the bars of your gates.
14 Draw your water for the siege, fortify your strongholds: go into the clay, and tread the mortar, make strong the brick kiln.
15 There shall the fire devour you; the sword shall cut you off, it shall eat you up like the locust: make yourself many like the locust, make yourself many like the swarming locusts.
16 You have multiplied your merchants more than the stars of heaven: the locust plunders, and flies away.
17 Your princes are like the locusts, and your officials like the great grasshoppers, which camp in the hedges on the cold day, but when the sun arises they flee away, and their place is not known where they are.
18 Your shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria: your nobles shall dwell in the dust: your people are scattered upon the mountains, and no man gathers them.
19 There is no healing of your bruise; your wound is grievous: all that hear the report of you shall clap their hands over you: for upon whom has not your wickedness passed continually?