Nahum

¹ Woe to the city of blood,

full of lies,

full of plunder,

never without prey.

² The crack of the whip,

the rumble of the wheel,

galloping horse

and bounding chariot!

³ Charging horseman,

flashing sword,

shining spear;

heaps of slain,

mounds of corpses,

dead bodies without end—

they stumble over their dead—

⁴ because of the many harlotries of the harlot,

the seductive mistress of sorcery,

who betrays nations by her prostitution

and clans by her witchcraft.

⁵ “Behold, I am against you,”

declares the LORD of Hosts.

“I will lift your skirts over your face.

I will show your nakedness to the nations

and your shame to the kingdoms.

⁶ I will pelt you with filth

and treat you with contempt;

I will make a spectacle of you.

⁷ Then all who see you

will recoil from you and say,

‘Nineveh is devastated;

who will grieve for her?’

Where can I find

comforters for you?”

⁸ Are you better than Thebes, ^[a]

stationed by the Nile with water around her,

whose rampart was the sea,

whose wall was the water?

⁹ Cush ^[b] and Egypt were her boundless strength;

Put and Libya were her allies.

¹⁰ Yet she became an exile;

she went into captivity.

Her infants were dashed to pieces

at the head of every street.

They cast lots for her dignitaries,

and all her nobles were bound in chains.

¹¹ You too will become drunk;

you will go into hiding

and seek refuge from the enemy.

¹² All your fortresses are fig trees

with the first ripe figs;

when shaken, they fall

into the mouth of the eater!

¹³ Look at your troops—

they are like your women!

The gates of your land

are wide open to your enemies;

fire consumes their bars.

¹⁴ Draw your water for the siege;

strengthen your fortresses.

Work the clay and tread the mortar;

repair the brick kiln!

¹⁵ There the fire will devour you;

the sword will cut you down

and consume you like a young locust.

Make yourself many like the young locust;

make yourself many like the swarming locust!

¹⁶ You have multiplied your merchants

more than the stars of the sky.

The young locust strips the land

and flies away.

¹⁷ Your guards ^[c] are like the swarming locust,

and your scribes ^[d] like clouds of locusts

that settle on the walls on a cold day.

When the sun rises, they fly away,

and no one knows where.

¹⁸ O king of Assyria, your shepherds slumber;

your officers sleep.

Your people are scattered on the mountains

with no one to gather them.

¹⁹ There is no healing for your injury;

your wound is severe.

All who hear the news of you

applaud your downfall,

for who has not experienced

your constant cruelty?