Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 4

On that day seven women will take hold
of one man and say, “We shall, our own food,
provide, and clothing if only we may
bear your name. Take away all our disgrace!”
The branch the LORD has grown, upon that day,
will in its beauty become glorious,
and, of the land, the fruit, will be the pride
and splendor of Is’rael, those who survive.
Whoever’s left in Zion, who remain
Jerusalem, in, those who were proclaimed
to, in Jerusalem, survive, will be
called holy, once the LORD has washed away
the filth of Zion’s daughters, and, cleansed, he’s,
the bloodstains of Jerusalem, from there,
by spirits of both judgment and of fire.
Then the LORD will create o’er the whole site
of Zion’s Mount, and over all the place,
assembling, for, will be a cloud by day,
and then by night, smoke and a fiery flame.
For over all, his glory, it will be
as a pavil’ion and a canopy,
that, from the heat, serves as a shade by day,
and refuge, shelter, from the storm and rain.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 3

For now, the Sovereign, of hosts, the LORD,
away, is taking from Jerusalem,
and Judah, both their staff and their support–
all their reserves of water and of bread–
the warrior, soldier, prophet, judge, all them,
the elder and the one who, fortunes, tells,
the dignitary and of fifty men,
their captain, the magician with great skill,
and the expert enchanter. “How I shall
make boys their princes, babes to rule o’er them.”
By everyone, the people, all, oppressed,
each by another, evil, their intent,
each person to their neighbor. Insolence,
the youth will show their elders, disrespect,
mere nobodies toward higher-ranking men.

A man will take hold of his brother in
his father’s house, and saying this to him:
“You have a cloak so you will be our chief.
We’re in your charge, our stricken family.”
But then the brother will at once reply,
“Society’s, its wounds, I cannot heal,
when in my house, there’s neither cloak nor meal.
You shall not put me in, authority,
a place of, over people, all of them.”
For it has been brought low, Jerusalem,
and to great grief, the place where Judah’s come,
for they defied the LORD in word and deed,
within his sight, provoked his majesty.

Against them, on their faces, testifies,
the look, like Sodom, their sins, glorify,
parading them, their sins they do not hide.
Woe to them! For they have upon themselves
brought evil. Fortunate, how they are, tell
the innocent, for what it is they’ll eat?
That of their labors, bountiful, the fruit.
Woe to the wicked! All goes ill with them;
the work of their own hands, their recompense.
The moneylenders strip my people bear,
and usurers lord all their debts, them, o’er.
My people, those who guide you, there, astray,
the path to ruin, they’re leading you that way.

The LORD comes forward to argue his case,
he stands to judge, his people, to accuse.
The LORD, his prosecution, implements,
his people’s elders, princes, them, against:
“It’s you, the vineyard, who, ravaged, devoured;
inside your houses, spoils took from the poor.
By crushing, people, my, what do you mean,
the poor when they look to you, grinding down,”
the LORD, the God of hosts, says. The LORD said:
“Because of Zion’s daughters’ haughtiness,
and how they walk around with outstretched necks,
and with their eyes, they’re glancing wantonly,
they move with mincing gaits and jingling feet.
The LORD will, Zion’s daughters, their heads, smite
with baldness, and the LORD, how, bare, he’ll make
their foreheads.” In that day, the LORD will take
their finery, their jewelry away,
their anklets, headbands, bracelets, coronets;
their crescents, discs, scarves, and their necklaces;
headdresses, perfume boxes, amulets;
the signet rings and nose rings; festal robes,
the mantles, handbags, flounced skirts, too, the cloaks;
the gauze and linen garments, turbans, veils.
Instead of sweet perfume, that of decay,
its stench; no girdle, rope will take its place;
instead of well-set hair, a head, bald, shaved;
not gorgeous robes, but sackcloth ‘round the waist;
instead of beauty, there’s a brand of shame.
It’s by the sword how Zion’s men will fall,
and warriors in a battle, they will all.
They shall lament and mourn, will Zion’s gates;
and stripped bare, she will, on the ground, there, sit.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 2

Isaiah son of Amoz saw this word,
Jerusalem and Judah, ref’rencing:

In the last days, what will, established, be:
the mountain of the temple of the LORD,
as highest of them all, the mountain peaks;
it will, exalted, be, above the hills,
and stream to it, how all the nations will.

The peoples, many, will come up and say,
“Come, let’s go to the mountain of the LORD,
the God of Jacob, to his temple’s place.
That all his ways, to us, he may inform,
that, walk within his holy paths, we may.”
From Zion will the law go out, his word,
out from Jerusalem, that of the LORD.
Between the nations, he will arbitrate,
for many peoples, he’ll, disputes, placate.
How, they will beat their swords into plowshares,
and into pruning hooks, they will their spears.
No nation ‘gainst another will, the sword,
lift up, they will no longer train for war.

Descendants, come, of Jacob, of the LORD,
within his light, let’s walk! Forsaken, for,
you have those of your people, their ways, all,
O house of Jacob. They, indeed, are full,
diviners, with, of eastern origin,
the superstitions of the Philistines,
and covenants with fore’gners, entering.
Their land is filled with silver and with gold,
and, to their treasures, no end can be found.
With horses, how it is their land is filled,
and, to their chariots, there is no end.
With idols, how it is filled up, their land;
they bow down to the work made with their hands,
to what they made with them, their fingers, own.
So mankind will be humbled, everyone
will be brought low, entirely they’re abased–
Do not forgive them! Ne’er, them, upwards raise.
Get ‘mongst the rocks, hide in the ground, down, deep,
the terror of the LORD, from that, there, flee,
and from the glory of his majesty.
They’ll be brought low, the people’s haughty eyes
and humbled will be everyone, their pride;
and on that day, alone, will be, the LORD,
exalted. For a day of doom in store,
the LORD of Hosts has, all the proud, them, for,
and for the lofty, lifted up, and high
(this day, their elevated place, denied);
for Lebanon’s, its cedars, lofty, tall;
the mighty oaks of Bashan, for them all;
for all the lofty mountains and high hills;
for ev’ry tower, tall, each tow’ring wall;
for all the ships of Tarshish, those that sail,
for all the vessels that are, precious, held.
It will be brought low, human arrogance,
and mankind humbled in its haughtiness.
The LORD alone, exalted, on that day,
will be. The idols, utterly away,
they’ll pass. Creep down, in crevices, in caves,
down in the rock, where you should seek escape
from the dread presence of the LORD, his face,
and from the glory of his majesty,
the earth, when he’ll rise to, it, terrify.
On that day, people, them, away, will throw
down to the bats in caves, and to the moles
their idols, those of silver, and of gold,
their idols which, to worship, what they made,
themselves, to enter down into the caves,
and down into rock clefts, down in the crags,
from, of the LORD, the terror, they will flee,
and from the glory of his majesty,
when he will rise to terrify the earth.
Do not, upon mere mortals, e’er believe,
who only have what’s in their nostrils, breath,
of what account, do they have any worth?

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 1

Concerning Judah and Jerusalem,
the vision that the son of Amoz saw,
Isaiah, that these kings reigned, at the times,
Uzziah, Jotham, Ahaz, and as well,
him, Hezekiah, kings of Judah, all.

Hear me you heavens, listen earth, me, hear,
for spoken has the LORD: “I, children, reared,
and brought them up but ‘gainst me they’ve rebelled.
The ox, its master knows, the donkey will,
its owner’s manger, but Is’rael does not
know, nor my people, understand, they don’t.”

Woe to the sinful nation, guilt is great,
a people whose, a brood of evil do’ers,
corruption, children, given to, who are!
The LORD, he is the one whom they’ve forsak’d,
the Holy One of Is’rael, they have spurned
and on him, all their backs, what they have turned.
Why should you e’er be beaten any more?
What of rebellion do you adore?
Your whole head, what is injured, your whole heart,
afflicted. From the sole of your own foot
up to the top of your head, soundness, there
is none — but only wounds, welts, open sores,
not cleansed or bandaged, soothed with olive oil.
Your country, desolate, is, burned with fire,
your cities; all your fields are being stripped,
by foreigners, there, right before your eyes,
laid waste as when, by strangers, over-tipped.

Left, Daughter Zion, like a shelter, is,
a vineyard, in, a hut out in a field
of cucumbers, like one, that’s under siege,
a city. The Almighty LORD, unless,
he had, behind, for us, survivors left,
like Sodom knew, what we would have real’ized,
is what we would have been, Gommorah-like.
Hear, of the LORD, the word, you rulers, high,
of Sodom! Of our God, the teaching, to,
now listen, of Gomorrah, people, you!
“What to me is it, all your multitude
of sacrifices?” says the LORD. “I have
had, of burnt offerings, enough, of rams,
and of the fattened animals, their fat.
I take no pleasure nor delight in that,
the blood of neither bulls nor goats nor lambs.
When you come to appear, here, me, before,
who has asked this of you, that of my courts,
this tramp’ling? Offerings, those meaningless,
stop bringing them! Your incense, I object,
abomination! New Moons, Sabbaths, hence,
your convocations, calling–I detest
assemblies, solemn, with their worthlessness.
Your New Moons and appointed festivals,
my soul hates; they’re a burden, terrible,
to me, they have become unbearable.
When you, in prayer, your hands would outwards spread,
from you, I hide my eyes; you, even when,
prayers, many, offer, I’m not listening.

“Your hands are full of blood! Make yourselves clean,
yourselves, wash. Take them, all your evil deeds,
out from my sight; from evil, you should cease;
learn to do right, and justice, you should seek.
The rights of the oppressed, you should defend.
Take up the cause of them, the fatherless.
As well, what you should plead, the widow’s case.

“Come now, the matter, let us settle it,”
the LORD says. “Though, like scarlet, are your sins,
they shall be white as snow; though they are red
as crimson, they shall be like wool again.

If you are willing and obedient
the good things of the land, what you will eat,
but if you are rebel’ious, you resist,
you will be by the sword devoured, complete.”
For, by his mouth, the LORD has spoken this.

The faithful city, see how she’s become
a prostitute! With justice she was once
full; righteousness, it used to dwell in her–
but, murderers, now! It’s no longer pure:
your silver, how it has become like dross,
it’s mixed with water, all your wine, most choice.
Your rulers, princes, all rebellious,
with thieves, they’ve partnered, their hearts now enmeshed;
bribes, what they love, and after gifts, they chase.
The orphan’s cause, not something they defend,
the widow’s case is never brought to them.

Therefore, the Sovereign and the LORD of hosts,
the Mighty One of Is’rael, says, words, these:

“Ah! I will pour my wrath out on my foes,
no vengeance I’ll spare ‘gainst my enemies!
Against you, I will turn my hand; your dross,
what I will purge away, impurities,
all of them from you they will be removed.
As in the days of old, I will restore
your judges, the beginning, at, I did,
your counselors, just as. Then, afterwards,
of Righteousness, the City, you will be
called, and the Faithful City, simlar’ly.”

With justice, Zion, will, delivered, be,
with righteousness, her penitent, redeemed.
But rebels, sinners both will be destroyed,
they’ll be consumed, those who forsake the LORD.

“For, of the oaks, them, you shall be ashamed,
in which you had delighted; and you’ll blush,
the gardens, for the ones you know by name.
With fading leaves, an oak, you’ll be like such,
a garden without water, you’re the same.
Like tinder, how the mighty man’s become,
a spark, his work; together, joined in flame.
Who’s left to quench the fire? There’s not a one.”

silent meditation non-violent political protest