[1] Come down and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon; sit on the
ground without a throne, O daughter of the Chalde'ans! For you shall no
more be called tender and delicate. [2] Take the millstones and grind meal,
put off your veil, strip off your robe, uncover your legs, pass through the
rivers. [3] Your nakedness shall be uncovered, and your shame shall be
seen. I will take vengeance, and I will spare no man. [4] Our Redeemer--
the LORD of hosts is his name-- is the Holy One of Israel. [5] Sit in
silence, and go into darkness, O daughter of the Chalde'ans; for you shall
no more be called the mistress of kingdoms. [6] I was angry with my people,
I profaned my heritage; I gave them into your hand, you showed them no
mercy; on the aged you made your yoke exceedingly heavy. [7] You said, "I
shall be mistress for ever," so that you did not lay these things to heart
or remember their end. [8] Now therefore hear this, you lover of pleasures,
who sit securely, who say in your heart, "I am, and there is no one besides
me; I shall not sit as a widow or know the loss of children": [9] These two
things shall come to you in a moment, in one day; the loss of children and
widowhood shall come upon you in full measure, in spite of your many
sorceries and the great power of your enchantments. [10] You felt secure in
your wickedness, you said, "No one sees me"; your wisdom and your knowledge
led you astray, and you said in your heart, "I am, and there is no one
besides me." [11] But evil shall come upon you, for which you cannot atone;
disaster shall fall upon you, which you will not be able to expiate; and
ruin shall come on you suddenly, of which you know nothing. [12] Stand fast
in your enchantments and your many sorceries, with which you have labored
from your youth; perhaps you may be able to succeed, perhaps you may
inspire terror. [13] You are wearied with your many counsels; let them
stand forth and save you, those who divide the heavens, who gaze at the
stars, who at the new moons predict what shall befall you. [14] Behold,
they are like stubble, the fire consumes them; they cannot deliver
themselves from the power of the flame. No coal for warming oneself is
this, no fire to sit before! [15] Such to you are those with whom you have
labored, who have trafficked with you from your youth; they wander about
each in his own direction; there is no one to save you.
