83 lines
2.6 KiB
Markdown
83 lines
2.6 KiB
Markdown
# Chapter 3
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1 Woe to the bloody city,
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all full of lies and plunder—
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no end to the prey!
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2 The crack of the whip, and rumble of the wheel,
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galloping horse and bounding chariot!
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3 Horsemen charging,
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flashing sword and glittering spear,
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hosts of slain,
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heaps of corpses,
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dead bodies without end—
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they stumble over the bodies!
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4 And all for the countless whorings of the prostitute,
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graceful and of deadly charms,
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who betrays nations with her whorings,
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and peoples with her charms.
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5 Behold, I am against you,
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declares the Lord of hosts,
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and will lift up your skirts over your face;
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and I will make nations look at your nakedness
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and kingdoms at your shame.
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6 I will throw filth at you
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and treat you with contempt
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and make you a spectacle.
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7 And all who look at you will shrink from you and say,
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“Wasted is Nineveh; who will grieve for her?”
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Where shall I seek comforters for you?
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8 Are you better than Thebes
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that sat by the Nile,
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with water around her,
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her rampart a sea,
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and water her wall?
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9 Cush was her strength;
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Egypt too, and that without limit;
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Put and the Libyans were her helpers.
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10 Yet she became an exile;
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she went into captivity;
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her infants were dashed in pieces
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at the head of every street;
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for her honored men lots were cast,
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and all her great men were bound in chains.
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11 You also will be drunken;
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you will go into hiding;
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you will seek a refuge from the enemy.
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12 All your fortresses are like fig trees
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with first-ripe figs—
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if shaken they fall
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into the mouth of the eater.
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13 Behold, your troops
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are women in your midst.
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The gates of your land
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are wide open to your enemies;
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fire has devoured your bars.
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14 Draw water for the siege;
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strengthen your forts;
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go into the clay;
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tread the mortar;
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take hold of the brick mold!
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15 There will the fire devour you;
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the sword will cut you off.
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It will devour you like the locust.
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Multiply yourselves like the locust;
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multiply like the grasshopper!
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16 You increased your merchants
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more than the stars of the heavens.
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The locust spreads its wings and flies away.
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17 Your princes are like grasshoppers,
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your scribes like clouds of locusts
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settling on the fences
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in a day of cold—
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when the sun rises, they fly away;
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no one knows where they are.
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18 Your shepherds are asleep,
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O king of Assyria;
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your nobles slumber.
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Your people are scattered on the mountains
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with none to gather them.
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19 There is no easing your hurt;
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your wound is grievous.
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All who hear the news about you
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clap their hands over you.
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For upon whom has not come
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your unceasing evil? |