Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 13

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 13

The oracle concerning Babylon
seen by Isaiah, Amoz, of, the son.

Upon a wind-swept height, the standard, hoist,
the call to battle, sound, and their advance,
the Nobles’ Gate, wave them there with your hand.
I’ve issued orders to my fighting men,
my warriors called, they’ve answered my command,
how they are eager for my victory,
to execute my anger, faithfully.

The mountains, on, a tumult, what is heard,
just like the sound of a great multitude!
It is the kingdoms, how they’re clamoring,
the nations’ noises of assembling.
The LORD of hosts, what he is mustering,
an army that’s, for battle, threatening.
Their origin is from a distant land,
from heaven’s ends and, the horizon, past,
the LORD is with the weapons of his wrath
that he will use to, the whole earth, lay waste.

Wail, for the day, that of the LORD, is near;
from the Almighty, where destruction’s made!
Enfeebled, how each person’s hands appear,
each human heart, with terror, melts away,
and everyone with anguish, they will writhe.
The pangs of agony will grip them fast;
a woman who’s in labor, that’s just like.
At one another, they will look aghast;
enfevered, how their faces are aflame.
See how it comes, that of the LORD, his day,
cruel, with fierce anger, and as well with wrath,
to desolation, to reduce the earth,
and all the wicked, from it, to destroy.
For all the stars that in the heavens shine,
their constellations will not give forth light;
it will be dark, the sun, when it will rise,
the moon, its light, no longer shines as bright.
Disaster on the world I will inflict,
and on the wicked bring due punishment,
their pride, I’ll end that of the arrogant,
of tyrants, I’ll lay low their insolence.
I will make mortals, than fine gold, more rare
and humans scarcer than gold from Ophir.
Therefore, the heavens tremble, I will make,
from its foundations, I, the earth, will shake,
the LORD of hosts, at that, his wrath, his rage,
that of his burning anger, on the day.
Like a gazelle a hunter has pursued,
or like some sheep whose shepherd’s been removed.
The people, all, to their own kind, turn toward,
and everyone, to their own lands, will flee.
Whoever’s found, they will fall by the sword,
and ev’ry person caught, run through, they’ll be.

Their infants will be battered ‘fore their eyes
to death, their houses looted, raped, their wives.
See I, the Medes, against them, up, have stirred,
who, what they have for silver, no regard,
and neither will they, tempted, be, by gold.
To slaughter the young men, their bows they’ll use,
they’ll have no mercy on the womb, its fruit,
no pity on the children in their eyes.

A kingdom glorious is Babylon,
it’s the Chaldeans’ splendor and their pride.
Like Sodom and Gomorrah, overthrown,
they’ll be by God. There, no one will reside,
and for the ages, no one will, there, live,
no Arab ever will, his tent, there, pitch.
There, shepherds will no longer fold their flocks.
The desert beasts, their haunts, there, they will make,
their homes, for owls, will be a dwelling place.
There, ostriches will settle in their homes,
and gamb’ling there will be the demon goats.
Hyenas in her towers make their cries,
her mansions, jackals, they will occupy.
Her doom is what is very soon to come,
her final days do not have long to run.