Isaiah

The Mourning of Moab

An oracle concerning Moab:Laid waste in a night, Ar of Moab is silent! Laid waste in a night, Kir of Moab is ruined!

The people of Dibon have gone to the high places to weep. Over Nebo and Medeba Moab wails. Every head is shaved, every beard is shorn.

In the streets they wear sackcloth, on the rooftops and in the squares; everyone wails, every heart melts in tears.

Heshbon and Elealeh cry out; their howling is heard as far as Jahaz; the armed men of Moab cry aloud and their hearts are faint.

My heart cries out for Moab; her fugitives flee as far as Zoar, as far as Eglath-shelishiyah. At the ascent of Luhith they go up weeping; on the way to Horonaim Their cries are heart-rending.

The watered fields of Nimrim have become a wasteland; the turf is dried up, the grass is withered, the verdure is gone.

Now they carry away their possessions, the wealth they have stored up, to the Brook of the Willows.

Their cry rings round the border of Moab, resounds as far as Eglaim, reaches as far as Beer-elim.

The waters of Dimon flow with blood, but worse is yet in store, for I will bring lions upon Dimon, upon those who escape from Moab, and upon those who survive in the land.