So Moab wails over its demise – they all wail! Completely devastated, they moan about what has happened to the raisin cakes of Kir Hareseth.

Travel to Tarshish! Wail, you residents of the coast!

Wail, you large ships, for your fortress is destroyed!

Wail, for the Lord’s day of judgment is near; it comes with all the destructive power of the sovereign judge.

In their streets they wear sackcloth; on their roofs and in their town squares all of them wail, they fall down weeping.

Look, my servants will shout for joy as happiness fills their hearts! But you will cry out as sorrow fills your hearts; you will wail because your spirits will be crushed.

Wail, O city gate! Cry out, O city! Melt with fear, all you Philistines! For out of the north comes a cloud of smoke, and there are no stragglers in its ranks.

They went up to the temple, the people of Dibon went up to the high places to lament. Because of what happened to Nebo and Medeba, Moab wails. Every head is shaved bare, every beard is trimmed off.

Here is a message about Tyre: Wail, you large ships, for the port is too devastated to enter! From the land of Cyprus this news is announced to them.

And now, what do we have here?” says the Lord. “Indeed my people have been carried away for nothing, those who rule over them taunt,” says the Lord, “and my name is constantly slandered all day long.