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Woe to 1the bloody city, all full of lies and plunder-- 2no end to the prey!
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The crack of the whip, and 3rumble of the wheel, 4galloping horse and 5bounding chariot!
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Horsemen charging, flashing sword and 6glittering spear, 7hosts of slain, heaps of corpses, dead bodies without end-- they stumble over the bodies!
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And all for the countless whorings of the 8prostitute, 9graceful and of deadly charms, who betrays nations with her whorings, and peoples with her charms.
510Behold, I am against you, declares the LORD of hosts, and 11will lift up your skirts over your face; and I will make nations look at 12your nakedness and kingdoms at your shame.
6
I will throw filth at you and 13treat you with contempt and make you 14a spectacle.
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And all who look at you 15will shrink from you and say, Wasted is 16Nineveh; 17who will grieve for her? 18Where shall I seek comforters for you?
819Are you better than 20Thebesa that sat 21by the Nile, with water around her, her rampart a sea, and water her wall?
922Cush was her strength; Egypt too, and that without limit; 23Put and the 24Libyans were herb helpers.
1025Yet she became an exile; she went into captivity; 26her infants were dashed in pieces at the head of every street; for her honored men 27lots were cast, 28and all her great men were bound in chains.
1129You also will be drunken; you will go into hiding; 30you will seek a refuge from the enemy.
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All your fortresses are 31like fig trees with first-ripe figs-- if shaken they fall into the mouth of the eater.
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Behold, your troops 32are women in your midst. The gates of your land are wide open to your enemies; fire has devoured your bars.
1433Draw water for the siege; 34strengthen your forts; go into the clay; tread the mortar; take hold of the brick mold!
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There will the fire devour you; the sword will cut you off. It will 35devour you 36like the locust. Multiply yourselves 37like the locust; multiply 38like the grasshopper!
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You increased 39your merchants more than the stars of the heavens. 40The locust spreads its wings and flies away.
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Your 41princes are 42like grasshoppers, 43your scribesc like clouds of locusts settling on the fences in a day of cold-- when the sun rises, they fly away; no one knows where they are.
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Your shepherds 44are asleep, O king of Assyria; 45your nobles slumber. Your people 46are scattered on the mountains with none to gather them.
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There is no easing your hurt; 47your wound is grievous. All who hear the news about you 48clap their hands over you. For 49upon whom has not come your unceasing evil?