The burden of Tyre. Wail, you ships of the sea! For the house, from which they were accustomed to go forth, has been laid waste. From the land of Kittim, this has been revealed to them
Be silent, you inhabitants of the island! The merchants of Sidon, crossing over the sea, have filled you
The offspring of the Nile is in the midst of many waters. The harvest of the river is her crop. And she has become the marketplace of the nations
Be ashamed, O Sidon! For the sea speaks, the strength of the sea, saying: “I have not been in labor, and I have not given birth, and I have not raised young men, nor have I promoted the development of virgins.
When it has been heard in Egypt, they will be in anguish, when they hear of Tyre
Cross over the seas. Wail, you inhabitants of the island
Is this not your place, which from its earliest days has gloried in its antiquity? Her feet will lead her to a sojourn far away
Who has made this plan against Tyre, which formerly was crowned, whose merchants were leaders, whose traders were illustrious on the earth
The Lord of hosts has planned this, so that he may tear down the arrogance of all glory, and may bring disgrace to all the illustrious of the earth
Cross through your land, as through a river, O daughter of the sea. You no longer have a belt
He has extended his hand over the sea. He has stirred up kingdoms. The Lord has given an order against Canaan, so that he may crush its strong
And he said: “You shall no longer increase so as to glory, while enduring calumny, O virgin daughter of Sidon. Rise up and set sail for Kittim; in that place, too, there will be no rest for you.
Behold, the land of the Chaldeans: never before was there such a people! Assur founded it. They have led away its strong ones into captivity. They have dug under its houses. They have left it in ruins
Wail, you ships of the sea! For your strength has been devastated
And this shall be in that day: you, O Tyre, will be forgotten for seventy years, like the days of one king. Then, after seventy years, there will be, for Tyre, something like the canticle of a harlot
Take up a stringed instrument. Circulate through the city, you harlot who had been forgotten. Sing many canticles well, so that you may be remembered
And this shall be after seventy years: the Lord will visit Tyre, and he will lead her back to her profits. And she will fornicate again with all the kingdoms of the world upon the face of the earth
And her businesses and her profits will be sanctified to the Lord. They will not be locked away and they will not be stored. For her business will be for those who will live in the presence of the Lord, so that they may eat until satisfied, and may be well-clothed even into old age