Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 44

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 44

My servant, Jacob, listen Israel,

now, whom I’ve chosen, help you, how I will.

Thus says the LORD, he who created you,

he is the one who formed you in the womb.

O Jacob, do not fear, you, Jeshurun

whom I have chosen.  On the thirsty soil,

I will pour water and streams, how I will,

on the dry ground.  My spirit, I’ll pour out

on your descendants and my blessing on

your offspring, and then they will upwards shoot

like a green tamarisk into the sun,

like willows by the gently flowing streams.

“I am the LORD’s,” will say, this person, one,

another will be called by Jacob’s name.

Another writes the LORD’s name on his hand

and, as a surname, “Is’rael,” he will add.

Thus says the LORD, he who is Is’rael’s King,

“There is no other god except for me.

I’m his redeemer and the LORD of hosts,

I am the first and also am the last.

Who is like me?  Let him stand up and speak,

let him declare it, show his proof to me.

Who’s, from of old, announced, to come, the things?

Let him foretell events, those yet to be.

Don’t fear, take heart, and do not be afraid.

Have I not told you all this from of old

and all these things, to you, I have declared?

You are my witnesses.  Apart from me,

identify another deity!

There is no other Rock, I am unique.”

All who make idols come to nothingness,

their cherished images are profitless,

and these, against them, are their witnesses:

they, nothing, see, and nothing do they know,

their ignorance, their foolishness, it shows.

Whoever makes a god, or he who casts

an image, all his efforts, what he wastes;

no thing he does will ever come to gain.

All devotees of his are put to shame

and, only human, they’re, who, idols, make.

Let them stand up, they will be terrified

and they will all, to shame, there, be confined.

An axe, the blacksmith, o’er the charcoal makes,

and o’er the hot coals, hammers, with them, shapes.

Becoming hungry, how his strength then fails,

he drinks no water, then, becomes, he, faint.

The carpenter, he stretches out a line,

and with a stylus, how it is defined,

the wood, what he will fashion with his planes.

He carves it so it makes a human shape

with human beauty and man’s dignity.

A shrine, the place that it will occupy.

He cuts a cedar down, a holm, an oak.

Of other forests’ trees, he will lay hold,

those that the LORD plants and the rain made grow.

Some portion serves the man as fuel for fire

and some for roasting meat, that use it has.

He eats his food and he is satisfied.

He warms himself and this what he says,

“Ah, I am warm here with the fire’s hot flame.”

With half the wood, a god is what he makes.

His idol, he bows down to it and prays.

“Save me, for you, my god, are,” what he says.

They do not know nor do they comprehend.

Their eyes are closed so that they cannot see,

their clouded minds makes them not understand.

They can’t consider nor can they perceive

enough to say, “Half, I have burned for fire

to bake my bread on glowing embers’ fuel.

I roasted meat; my hunger’s now expired.
The other half of wood, for this I’ll use

it: an abomination, what I’ll make.

Before a block of wood, I’ll lie prostrate.”

He feeds on ashes, and it is astray,

that his deluded mind, to there, him, led,

and he can’t save himself, or of it say,

“Is not this thing in my hand just a fraud?”

“O Jacob, all these things, keep them in mind

and Is’rael, for who you are: servant, my.

You are my servant, whom I did create.

O Is’rael, you, I never shall forget.

All your transgressions, how them I have swept

away just like a cloud and all your sins,

I have dispersed them like the morning’s mists.

Return to me, for you, I have redeemed.”

O heavens, for the LORD has done this, sing!

The underworld, cry out with joy, aloud.

You mountain tops, for joy, now, you should shout,

the forests and in them each growing tree!

For Jacob is the one the LORD redeemed

and Is’rael, through, his glory, he’s revealed.

Thus says the LORD, whom your Redeemer is,

who formed you in the womb and ever since:

“I am the LORD, and everything, I made,

who by myself the heavens outwards spread,

alone, the earth, I hammered into shape;

the liars’ omens, all them, I frustrate

and, the diviners, into fools, I make.

What wise men say, those things I will reverse.

Their knowledge, into foolishness, I turn.

My servant’s prophecies, those, I confirm.

My envoy’s plans, successful, I will make.

It’s to Jerusalem, this, what I say,

‘Once more inhabited, how she will be.’

And Judah’s cities, ‘They, rebuilt, will be,’

and I will raise their ruins upwardly.”

‘Be dry,’ is what I say to waters, deep.

I make them dry, where they once flowed, your streams.

Who says of Cyrus, ‘Shepherd, my, he is,

and he shall carry out my purposes.

So that Jerusalem may be rebuilt,

the temple’s, laid, foundations, be, they will.’”