“Fall down! Sit in the dirt,

O virgin daughter Babylon!

Sit on the ground, not on a throne,

O daughter of the Babylonians!

Indeed, you will no longer be called delicate and pampered.

Pick up millstones and grind flour.

Remove your veil,

strip off your skirt,

expose your legs,

cross the streams.

Let your naked body be exposed.

Your shame will be on display!

I will get revenge;

I will not have pity on anyone,”

says our Protector—

the Lord of Heaven’s Armies is his name,

the Holy One of Israel.

“Sit silently! Go to a hiding place,

O daughter of the Babylonians!

Indeed, you will no longer be called ‘Queen of kingdoms.’

I was angry at my people;

I defiled my special possession

and handed them over to you.

You showed them no mercy;

you even placed a very heavy burden on old people.

You said,

‘I will rule forever as permanent queen!’

You did not think about these things;

you did not consider how it would turn out.

So now, listen to this,

O one who lives so lavishly,

who lives securely,

who says to herself,

‘I am unique! No one can compare to me!

I will never have to live as a widow;

I will never lose my children.’

Both of these will come upon you

suddenly, in one day!

You will lose your children and be widowed.

You will be overwhelmed by these tragedies,

despite your many incantations

and your numerous amulets.

You were complacent in your evil deeds;

you thought, ‘No one sees me.’

Your self-professed wisdom and knowledge lead you astray,

when you say, ‘I am unique! No one can compare to me!’

Disaster will overtake you;

you will not know how to charm it away.

Destruction will fall on you;

you will not be able to appease it.

Calamity will strike you suddenly,

before you recognize it.

Persist in trusting your amulets

and your many incantations,

which you have faithfully recited since your youth!

Maybe you will be successful—

maybe you will scare away disaster.

You are tired out from listening to so much advice.

Let them take their stand—

the ones who see omens in the sky,

who gaze at the stars,

who make monthly predictions—

let them rescue you from the disaster that is about to overtake you!

Look, they are like straw

that the fire burns up;

they cannot rescue themselves

from the heat of the flames.

There are no coals to warm them,

no firelight to enjoy.

They will disappoint you,

those you have so faithfully dealt with since your youth.

Each strays off in his own direction,

leaving no one to rescue you.”