[1] “Go down and sit in the dust, O Virgin Daughter of Babylon. Sit on the ground without a throne, O Daughter of the Chaldeans! For you will no longer be called tender or delicate. [2] Take millstones and grind flour; remove your veil; strip off your skirt, bare your thigh, and wade through the streams. [3] Your nakedness will be uncovered and your shame will be exposed. I will take vengeance; I will spare no one.” [4] Our Redeemer — the LORD of Hosts is His name —is the Holy One of Israel. [5] “Sit in silence and go into darkness, O Daughter of the Chaldeans. For you will no longer be called the queen of kingdoms. [6] I was angry with My people; I profaned My heritage, and I placed them under your control. You showed them no mercy; even on the elderly you laid a most heavy yoke. [7] You said, ‘I will be queen forever.’ You did not take these things to heart or consider their outcome. [8] So now hear this, O lover of luxury who sits securely, who says to herself, ‘I am, and there is none besides me. I will never be a widow or know the loss of children.’ [9] These two things will overtake you in a moment, in a single day: loss of children, and widowhood. They will come upon you in full measure, in spite of your many sorceries and the potency of your spells. [10] You were secure in your wickedness; you said, ‘No one sees me.’ Your wisdom and knowledge led you astray; you told yourself, ‘I am, and there is none besides me.’ [11] But disaster will come upon you; you will not know how to charm it away. A calamity will befall you that you will be unable to ward off. Devastation will happen to you suddenly and unexpectedly. [12] So take your stand with your spells and with your many sorceries, with which you have wearied yourself from your youth. Perhaps you will succeed; perhaps you will inspire terror! [13] You are wearied by your many counselors; let them come forward now and save you—your astrologers who observe the stars, who monthly predict your fate. [14] Surely they are like stubble; the fire will burn them up. They cannot deliver themselves from the power of the flame. There will be no coals to warm them or fire to sit beside. [15] This is what they are to you —those with whom you have labored and traded from youth—each one strays in his own direction; not one of them can save you.[’’]
