Come down and sit in the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon; Sit on the ground where there is no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans; For you will no longer be called Tender and delicate.

Take millstones and grind meal; Remove your veil; Strip off your flowing skirt; uncover your thigh; Cross over the rivers.

Your nakedness will be uncovered; Your shame will also be seen; I will take vengeance and will not spare any man.

Our Redeemer, Jehovah of hosts is His name, The Holy One of Israel.

Sit in silence and go in darkness, O daughter of the Chaldeans; For you will no longer be called The queen of kingdoms.

I was angry with My people; I profaned My inheritance, And I have delivered them up into your hand. You have not shown any mercy to them; You have made your yoke Very heavy upon the elderly.

You have said, I will be A queen forever; You did not put these things into your heart; You did not remember the end of them.

And now hear this, O lover of pleasure, Who dwells securely And says in your heart, I am, and there is none besides me; I will not dwell as a widow, And I will not know loss of children.

But these two things will come upon you Suddenly, in one day: Loss of children and widowhood; In full measure they will come upon you In spite of the multitude of your sorceries; In spite of the great power of your spells.

And you felt secure in your wickedness; You said, No one sees me. Your wisdom and your knowledge Have seduced you, And you said in your heart, I am, and there is none besides me.

But evil will come upon you, And you will not know its origin; Disaster will fall upon you Which you cannot propitiate for; Desolation will come upon you suddenly, About which you do not know.

Stand now with your enchantments And the multitude of your sorceries, With which you have labored from your youth; Perhaps you can profit; Perhaps you will inspire terror.

You are wearied with the multitude of your counsels. Let the astrologers, who gaze at the stars, Who predict according to the new moons, Stand up and save you from what is coming upon you.

Indeed, they are like stubble; Fire consumes them; They cannot deliver themselves From the power of the flame; There is no coal for warming themselves, Nor the light of a fire to sit before.

So will those with whom you have labored be to you, Those who have traded with you from your youth; Each one will wander off in his own direction; There will be no one to save you.