Chapter 47

  Come down and sit in the dust, virgin-daughter of Babylon! Sit on the ground, -- [there is] no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans; for thou shalt no more be called tender and delicate.  

  Take the millstones, and grind meal; remove thy veil, lift up the train, uncover the leg, pass over rivers:  

  thy nakedness shall be uncovered, yea, thy shame shall be seen. I will take vengeance, and I will meet none [to stay me]. ...  

  Our Redeemer, Jehovah of hosts is his name, the Holy One of Israel. ...  

  Sit silent, and get thee into darkness, daughter of the Chaldeans; for thou shalt no more be called, Mistress of kingdoms.  

  I was wroth with my people, I polluted mine inheritance, and gave them into thy hand: thou didst shew them no mercy; upon the aged didst thou very heavily lay thy yoke;  

  and thou saidst, I shall be a mistress for ever; so that thou didst not take these things to heart, thou didst not remember the end thereof.  

  And now hear this, thou voluptuous one, that dwellest carelessly, that sayest in thy heart, It is I, and there is none but me; I shall not sit as a widow, neither shall I know loss of children:  

  yet these two things shall come upon thee in a moment, in one day, loss of children and widowhood; they shall come upon thee in full measure for the multitude of thy sorceries, for the great abundance of thine enchantments.  

  For thou hast confided in thy wickedness: thou hast said, None seeth me. Thy wisdom and thy knowledge, it hath seduced thee; and thou hast said in thy heart, It is I, and there is none but me.  

  But evil shall come upon thee -- thou shalt not know from whence it riseth; and mischief shall fall upon thee, which thou shalt not be able to ward off; and desolation that thou suspectest not shall come upon thee suddenly.  

  Stand now with thine enchantments and with the multitude of thy sorceries, wherein thou hast laboured from thy youth; if so be thou shalt be able to turn them to profit, if so be thou mayest cause terror.  

  Thou art wearied in the multitude of thy counsels. Let now the interpreters of the heavens, the observers of the stars, who predict according to the new moons what shall come upon thee, stand up, and save thee.  

  Behold, they shall be as stubble, the fire shall burn them; they shall not deliver themselves from the power of the flame: there shall not be a coal to warm at, [nor] fire to sit before it.  

  Thus shall they be unto thee with whom thou hast laboured, they that trafficked with thee from thy youth: they shall wander every one to his own quarter; there is none to save thee.