'Behold, I am against you,' declares the LORD of armies; 'And I will lift up your skirts over your face, And show the nations your nakedness, And the kingdoms your shame.
I will throw filth on you And declare you worthless, And set you up as a spectacle.
And it will come about that all who see you Will shrink from you and say, ‘Nineveh is devastated! Who will have sympathy for her?’ Where shall I seek comforters for you?'
Are you better than No-amon, Which was situated by the canals of the Nile, With water surrounding her, Whose rampart was
the sea, Whose wall consisted
of the sea?
Ethiopia was her
might, Egypt too, without limits. Put and Lubim were among her helpers.
Yet she became an exile, She went into captivity; Also her small children were smashed to pieces At the head of every street; They cast lots for her honorable men, And all her great men were bound with shackles.
You too will become drunk, You will be hidden. You too will search for a refuge from the enemy.
All your fortifications are fig trees with ripe fruit— When shaken, they fall into the eater’s mouth.