1 Woe to the land of whirring wingsalong the rivers of Cush,
2 which sends envoys by seain papyrus boats over the water.Go, swift messengers,to a people tall and smooth-skinned,to a people feared far and wide,an aggressive nation of strange speech,whose land is divided by rivers.
3 All you people of the world,you who live on the earth,when a banner is raised on the mountains,you will see it,and when a trumpet sounds,you will hear it.
4 This is what the Lord says to me:‘I will remain quiet and will look on from my dwelling-place,like shimmering heat in the sunshine,like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.’
5 For, before the harvest, when the blossom is goneand the flower becomes a ripening grape,he will cut off the shoots with pruning knives,and cut down and take away the spreading branches.
6 They will all be left to the mountain birds of preyand to the wild animals;the birds will feed on them all summer,the wild animals all winter.