Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 25

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 25

O LORD, you are my God, I’ll, you, extol
and praise your name; for how you have fulfilled
your plans, most wonderful, that are of old,
both faithful, sure. For how it is you’ve turned
the town, into a heap of stones, transformed
to ruin, is the city, fortified;
the palace of the foreigners, no more,
a city, is; again, it ne’er shall rise.
They’ll glorify you, peoples, strong, therefore,
the ruthless nations’ cities, you, they’ll fear.
A refuge to those who’re distressed, with need,
a shelter from the storm, a shade from heat.
When, like a winter rainstorm was the blast
the ruthless made, that of the aliens,
their noise was like the heat in a dry place,
you cooled the heat with shadows of the clouds,
the songs the ruthless sing have all been stilled.

Upon this mountain, will, the LORD of hosts
provide for, peoples, all, a luscious feast,
of food that’s rich, that is, with marrow, filled,
of wines, strained so they will be clear, aged well.
And on this mountain he’ll destroy the shroud
that over them, the peoples, has been pulled,
the sheet that, nations, over all, is spread,
forever death, what he will swallow up.
Then the LORD God, away, the tears will wipe,
from all their faces, and, too, their disgrace,
away, from all the earth, what he will take,
for spoken has the LORD. It, on that day,
said, will be, Look, in whom, this is the LORD,
we put our hope so that, save us, he should.
This is the LORD, our God we’ve waited for;
let us be glad and in it, let’s rejoice,
the LORD’s salvation, make a joyful noise.
For the LORD’s hand will rest assuredly
upon this mountain. Moab, it shall be
down-trodden in their place beneath his feet,
as straw is trodden down in a dung-heap.
Though Moab spreads their hands out in the midst
of it as swimmers outwards will, to swim,
their hands, spread, their pride will be sunk and drown,
despite their hands that struggle all around.
Your fortress with its walls he’s overthrown,
the dust, in, of the ground, he’s flung it down.