Nahum 3

¹ Woe to the city of blood,
all of it full of lies and plunder—
the prey does not depart!

² The crack of the whip,
the rumble of the wheel,
galloping horse and bounding chariot!

³ Charging horsemen,
flashing sword and glittering spear,
heaps of slain, masses of corpses,
endless dead bodies—
they stumble over the bodies!

⁴ Because of the countless harlotries of the prostitute,
graceful and deadly in her sorceries,
who sells nations by her harlotries
and peoples by her sorceries.

⁵ "Look, I am against you"—declares the LORD of hosts.
"I will lift your skirts over your face
and show the nations your nakedness
and the kingdoms your shame.

⁶ I will throw filth at you
and treat you with contempt
and make you a spectacle.

⁷ And all who look at you will shrink from you and say:
'Nineveh is devastated! Who will grieve for her?'
Where will I seek comforters for you?"

⁸ Are you better than Thebes,
who sat by the Nile,
with water around her,
whose rampart was the sea,
whose wall was the water?

⁹ Cush was her strength,
and Egypt without limit.
Put and the Libyans were her helpers.

¹⁰ Yet she became an exile;
she went into captivity.
Her infants were dashed to pieces
at the head of every street.
For her honored men they cast lots,
and all her great ones were bound in chains.

¹¹ You also will become drunk;
you will go into hiding.
You also will seek a refuge from the enemy.

¹² All your fortresses are like fig trees
with first-ripe figs—
if shaken, they fall
into the mouth of the eater.

¹³ Look—your troops are women in your midst!
The gates of your land
are wide open to your enemies;
fire has consumed your bars.

¹⁴ Draw water for the siege!
Strengthen your fortresses!
Go into the clay and tread the mortar!
Take hold of the brick mold!

¹⁵ There the fire will consume you;
the sword will cut you off.
It will consume you like the locust.
Multiply like the locust!
Multiply like the swarming locust!

¹⁶ You have multiplied your merchants
more than the stars of the heavens.
The locust strips and flies away.

¹⁷ Your guards are like locusts,
and your scribes like swarms of locusts
that settle on the walls on a cold day—
when the sun rises, they fly away,
and no one knows where they have gone.

¹⁸ Your shepherds are asleep, O king of Assyria;
your nobles slumber.
Your people are scattered on the mountains
with no one to gather them.

¹⁹ There is no easing your hurt;
your wound is grievous.
All who hear the news about you
clap their hands over you.
For upon whom has your evil not passed
continually?