Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 42

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 42

Here is my servant, him, whom I uphold,

my chosen one, he, who delights my soul.

Upon him, I have placed, my Spirit, whole;

forth, to the nations, justice, he will bring.

He will not cry aloud or say a thing,

he won’t lift up his voice out in the street; 

a reed that’s bruised, he will not break, and yet,

a wick that faintly burns, he will not quench;

He, justice, will bring forth by his great faith.

He’ll neither be crushed down nor e’er grow faint

until he, in the earth, has, justice, made;

and for his teaching, how the coastlands wait.

These are the words of the LORD who is God,

the heavens, who created them and spread

them out, who stretched the earth out with its crops,

and to its people, who is giving breath,

and spirit to those who, upon it, tread.

I am the LORD, and for the victory

of justice I have called you righteously.

I grasped you by the hand and, you, I’ve shaped.

You, as a covenant, is what I gave

the people, to the nations you’re a light 

to open up the eyes of those who’re blind,

to free the captives from where they’re confined,

the dungeon, where in dark, the pris’ners lie.

I am the LORD and Yahweh is my name.

I will, my glory, give to no one else,

nor any honor to an idol’s praise.

The former prophecies have come to pass

and what I now declare to you: new things

before the time they, into being, spring.

A new song to the LORD what we should sing!

Throughout the earth where we will sing his praise.

Let the sea roar and all that it contains

and those who, on the coasts and islands, stay.

Let both the deserts and its towns, their voice, 

lift up, the villages where Kedar dwells.
Let all of its inhabitants rejoice,

of Sela, let them, from the tops of hills

shout out. Let them give glory to the LORD,

and, in the coastlands, glory, his, declare.

It’s like a soldier how the LORD goes forth,

his fury, like a warrior, up, he stirs;

he cries aloud and shouts his battle cry

against his enemies, he shows his might.

For a long time, my peace is what I’ve held.

Myself, I have restrained, and I’ve kept still;

now like a woman in her labor pains

I’ll gasp and pant, and out is how I cry.

The mountains and the hills I will lay waste

and all their vegetation, I will dry.

The rivers, to firm ground, them, I will change.

and all the pools I’ll dry in the same way.

By roads they do not know, I’ll lead the blind,

in paths they do not know, them, I will guide.

Before them, darkness, I’ll turn into light,

their crooked paths, I will make them aligned.

These are the things I shall do without fail.

They’ll be turned back and utterly ashamed,

in carven images, whose trust they place.

“You are our gods,” to idols what they say.

Hear now, you who are deaf, look up and see.

You who are blind!  Who’s really blind is he

who is my servant, and who’s truly deaf,

but it is he, the messenger I send?

Who is so blind as he who, as a friend,

I’ve taken to myself, who is so deaf,

as he who is a servant of the LORD?

You’ve seen so much, but little, you’ve observed.

Your ears are open but you do not hear.

The LORD, for the sake of his righteousness,

was pleased to make his law both glorious

and great, yet how this people was despoiled

and plundered, all of them are trapped in holes,

and in the dungeon, they are hid away.

As booty, they are taken, they are prey,

with no one who will, their return, demand.

Among you, who will, to these words, attend,

and, for the time to come, who listens in.

Who gave up Jacob to the plunderers?

Who handed Is’rael to the pillagers?

Was it not, ‘gainst the LORD, whom we have sinned,

in whose ways, walking there, what they have shunned

and whose law, how against it, they have turned.

So he, on Jacob, poured out all his wrath,

and too, of war, the fury; it, him, wrapped,

in flames, but yet he understood it not,

it burned him but he took it not to heart.