Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 42

~ Quetzalhiloco Publishing ~ Leave a comment

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.

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 41

~ Quetzalhiloco Publishing ~ Leave a comment

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 41

Before me, silence, keep, you, by the sea,

you islands, coastlands; to renew their strength,

let all the peoples draw near me and speak;

for judgment, let us all, as one, convene.

Who has, a champion, roused, from the east

and summoned him to, victory, achieve?

To him, the nations, he’s delivering,

and tramples, underneath his feet, their kings;

who, with his sword, them, into dust, he’ll cleave,

and, with his bow, chaff to the wind, he’ll heave.

He, them, pursues and will, unscathed, proceed,

the path, he’s scarcely touching with his feet.

Who did all this and who performed these deeds,

since the beginning, calling, forwardly,

the generations? I, the LORD, am first,

and I will be there with them at the last.

They saw all this and were afraid, the coast,

the islands trembled and shook end to end.

But, Is’rael, you, my servant, whom I chose,

you’re Jacob who from Abraham descends,

that patriarch whom I name as a friend;

You, whom I took out of the earth, its ends,

I summoned you from countries far away.

“You are my servant,” that to you I say,

“I’ve chosen you and haven’t, off, you, cast”;

Do not fear, for with you, I, present, am.

Afraid? I am your God, you shouldn’t be.

I’ll strengthen you, and help you actively.

The one victorious, with my right hand, 

I will uphold you.  Them, you will withstand;

all of them who are, you, against, incensed

themselves shall be ashamed, as well disgraced,

all those who strive against you, how they’ll be?

As nothing and they’ll perish finally.

Those who contend with you, out, you shall seek,

but you will not find their locality;

to nothing, how it is they’ll be reduced,

those ones who war and take up arms, you, ‘gainst.

For I, the LORD, your God, hold your right hand;

“Don’t fear,” I am the one, to you, who says,

“how I shall help you, do not be aghast.”

You, Jacob, are a worm, but do not fear,

and Is’rael, just a maggot, all you are.

It’s I who help you, what the LORD declares;

the Holy One of Is’rael, he is your

Redeemer.  You, to this, I shall transform:

a threshing sledge, both new and sharp, for wheat,

it’s one that’s fitted out with double teeth.

The mountains, into dust, them, you shall crush,

the hills to chaff, how, all of them, you’ll thresh.

You’ll winnow them, you’ll toss them in the gale

and then the wind will carry them away,

it’s how the tempest scatters them, that way.

Then, in the LORD, the manner you’ll rejoice,

the Holy One of Is’rael is the source,

you’ll glory in his person, that’s the place.

For water, what the poor and needy crave,

and there is none, their parched tongue’s thirst, to slake,

but I the LORD, their answer, I will say,

the God of Is’rael, I, them, won’t forsake.

I’ll open rivers on the arid heights,

and fountains in the valley’s deepest spike;

the desert, I shall turn into a lake

and dry land into gushing water streams.

The desert, I shall plant with cedar trees,

with olives, myrtle, and acacia;

the cypresses, the desert, in, I’ll place,

together with the pine, as well the plane

so that the people, see and know, they may,

they’ll once for all observe and understand

that, of the LORD, what’s done this is his hand,

the Holy One of Is’rael, who he is,

the one who has created all of this.


Set forth your case, the LORD says; and as well,

your proofs, bring them, the King of Jacob tells.

Let them bring them, tell us all what will be.

Tell us the former things of history,

and to us, then, the outcome, is revealed;

or, to us, all the things, declare, to be.

Tell us what is, hereafter, going to come

so that we can, that you are gods, confirm;

at least do something, whether good or bad

so that you’ll make us feel both awe and dread.

Indeed, you’re nothing and your work is doomed.

Abomination, is, one choosing you.

I’ve raised him from the north and he has come,

and from the east, he’s summoned by his name.

He tramples all the rulers just like mud,

he stomps them like a potter treading clay.

Who, this, from the beginning, has revealed,

for us to know, and in our history, 

to say, ‘That’s right’?  No one in fact disclosed

it, no one, it, proclaimed, no one has known

your speech.  First fruits of Zion, here, behold,

he’s coming now, a messenger, I send

Jerusalem, to bring you news that’s good.

But when I look, there’s no one to be found;

among all them, there is no counselor

who, when I ask, can serve as answerer.

Combined together they are nothingness,

their works are mere delusion, meaningless;

their idols are mere wind and emptiness.

Ryming Isaiah, Chapter 40

~ Quetzalhiloco Publishing ~ Leave a comment

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 40

Console my people, comfort, bring to them,

your God says.  Tenderly, Jerusalem,

speak to her, and as well, cry out to her,

tell how her term of bondage has been served,

and how it is, her penalty’s been paid,

that from the LORD’s hand, what she has received:

a double punishment for all her sins.

A voice cries out, “It’s through the wilderness,

where, of the LORD, the way, you now prepare!

A highway for our God, make straight through there, 

the desert.  Ev’ry valley, how they’ll be

uplifted, and how ev’ry mountain peak

and hill will be made low; uneven ground,

shall be made level, and how they’ll be turned,

the places, rough, into a plain.  The LORD,

that moment will his glory be revealed,

and people, it, together, they will see,

for, of the LORD, his mouth, has spake, words, these.”

A voice said, “Cry aloud!” and I replied,

“What shall I cry?” “Is grass, all of mankind,

and all their glory like that, of the field,

the flower, it’s the time that it will last.

The flower fades, and, withers, all the grass

when, on it, the LORD’s breath blows like a blast;

for certainly all people are like grass.
The grass, it withers, and the flower fades,

but it’s forever, how long it remains,

the word of our God stands firm in its place.

A mountain, high, get up there, you who bring

good news to Zion, how you should, with strength,

lift up your voice, and tell it without fear,

the good news, to Jerusalem; declare

to Judah’s cities, say: “Your God is here!”

See, how, with might, the LORD God comes, his arm,

by it, his rule, what it maintains for him;

with him will his reward fore’er attend,

and him, preceding, is his recompense. 

He’ll feed his flock just like a shepherd tends

his sheep; his arms, in, gathers all the lambs,

and, in his bosom, he will carry them,

he leads the mother sheep where they’ll have rest.

The waters of the sea, who was it that,

them, measured, with the hollow of his hand,

and marked the heavens with a gauging span,

and weighed the earth’s dust, how great is its mass, 

the mountains’ weight, who measured using scales,

and with a balance, who weighed all the hills?

Who has directed his, what is inside,

the spirit of the LORD, or as one wise,

a counselor, who has instructed him?

With whom did he, for his enlightenment,

consult, and who, the path of justice, taught

to him?  Who, knowledge, taught him, and showed him

the way of understanding?  Even them,

the nations, they are likened to a drop,

a bucket, from, and even on the scales,

they are accounted for like weightless dust;

see, like fine dust, he’s taking up the isles.

Would not provide fuel, Lebanon, enough,

for a burnt offering, nor, they enough,

its animals, are.  How the nations are

as nothing when they are placed, him, before;

as less than nothing, too, and emptiness,

how he accounts for them: their worthlessness.

Then, will you liken him, our God, to whom?

What likeness, to, do you compare with him?

An idol?  Something that a workman casts,

then overlays with gold, that metal’s smith,

and casts for it its silver chains.  Too, as a gift,

one chooses wood from the mulberry tree,

the type of wood that never will, rot, see–

then out, an artisan, skilled, one will seek,

to set an image up specifically

so no one ever sees its toppling.

Have you not known?  Is it that you’ve not heard?

From the beginning, has it not been told

to you? Is it that you’ve not understood

since, from the earth’s foundations?  It is he

who sits above the circle of the earth,

and its inhabitants, like grasshoppers,

are; who stretches them out, like those of heav’n,

its curtains, spreads them out just like a tent,

to live in; who brings princess, all, to naught,

as nothing, makes the rulers of the earth.

They’re scarcely planted, are they scarcely sown,

has their stem taken, does the earth, it know,

its root, when he will on them strongly blow

and then they wither, how the tempest will, 

like stubble, carry them off, in the air.

To whom, then, will you liken me, compare,

or who’s my equal? says the Holy One.

Lift up your eyes on high and you will see:

Who was it that created all of these?

He who brings out their host and numbers them

and all of them he’s calling each by name

because he’s great in strength and how, in pow’r,

he’s mighty, missing not a single one.

Why do you say, O Jacob, and why do

you speak, O Is’rael, “Hidden from the LORD,

how my way is and disregarded, is,

my right, by my God”?  Have you not known it?

Have you not heard? The everlasting God,

the LORD is, the Creator of the earth,

its very ends.  He does not, weary, grow,

or ever faint; his understanding is

unsearchable.  It’s power to the faint,

he gives, and strengthens all the powerless.

Youths, even, them, will faint and, weary, be,

and all the young, how they’ll exhausted, fall;

but those who, for the LORD, wait, shall renew

their strength, how they shall mount up certainly

with wings like eagles, how it is they’ll run?

They’ll not get weary, and how they shall walk?

They will go forward and they’ll never faint.