CHAPTER 47
Go down
and sit
in
the dust,
O Virgin
Daughter
of Babylon.
Sit
on the ground
without
a throne,
O Daughter
of Chaldea!
For
you will no
longer
be called
tender
and delicate.
Take
millstones
and grind
flour;
remove
your veil,
strip off
your skirt,
bare
your thigh,
wade through
the streams.
Your nakedness
will be uncovered
and
your shame
will be exposed.
I will take
vengeance;
I will spare
no
one.
Sit
in silence
and go
into darkness,
O Daughter
of Chaldea.
For
you will no
longer
be called
the queen
of kingdoms.
I was angry
with
My people;
I profaned
My heritage,
and I placed
them under your control.
You showed
them no
mercy;
even upon
the elderly
you laid a most heavy yoke.
You said,
‘I will be
queen
forever.’
You did not
take
these
things to
heart
or consider
their outcome.
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.’
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.
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.’
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.
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!
You are wearied
from your many
counsels.
So let them stand
and save you—
the astrologers
who observe
the stars,
who monthly
predict
your fate.
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.
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.