47 Down—and sit in the dust, O virgin Daughter of Babylon, Sit on the ground—throneless, Daughter of the Chaldeans; For thou shalt no more be called Tender and Dainty.
2 Take millstones and grind meal,—Put back thy veil—tuck up thy train, Bare the leg, wade through streams:
3 Bared shall be thy shame, Yea seen thy reproach,—An avenging will I take, And will accept no son of earth.
4 Our Redeemer Yahweh of hosts is his name! The Holy One of Israel.
5 Sit silent and get into darkness, Daughter of the Chaldeans! For thou shalt no more be called Mistress of Kingdoms.
6 I had been provoked with my people, Had profaned mine inheritance, And given them into thy hand, . . . Thou shewedst them no compassion, Upon the elder madest thou very heavy thy yoke.
7 And thou saidst, Unto times age-abiding shall I be Mistress,—Insomuch that thou laidst not these things to thy heart, Didst not keep in mind the issue thereof.
8 Now therefore hear this, Thou Lady of pleasure, Who dwelleth securely, Who saith in her heart,—I [am], and there is no one besides, I shall not sit a widow, Nor know loss of children.
9 Yet shall there come to thee—both these in a moment, in one day, Loss of children and widowhood,—To their full have they come on thee, Spite of the mass of thine incantations, Spite of the great throng of thy spells.
10 And so thou didst trust in thy wickedness, Thou saidst No one seeth me, Thy wisdom and knowledge the same seduced thee,—Therefore saidst thou in thy heart, I [am] and there is no one besides.
11 Therefore shall come on thee—Mischief, Thou shalt not know how to charm it away, Yea there shall fall on thee Ruin, Thou shalt not be able to appease it,—And there shall come on thee suddenly Desolation, Thou shalt not know.
12 Take thy stand, I pray thee, With thy spells And with the throng of thine incantations wherein thou hast wearied thyself from thy youth,—Peradventure thou mayest be able to profit, Peradventure thou mayest strike me with terror.
13 Thou hast worn thyself out with the mass of thy consultations,—Let them take their stand, I pray thee, that they may save thee—The dividers of the heavens—The gazers at the stars, They who make known by new moons, Somewhat of the things which shall come upon thee.
14 Lo! they have become as straw—a fire hath burned them up, They shall not deliver their own soul from the grasp of the flame,—There is no live coal to warm them, nor blaze to sit before.
15 Such have they become to thee with whom thou hast wearied thyself,—Thy merchants—from thy youth will every man stagger straight onwards—There is none to save thee.