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

So my heart constantly sighs for Moab, like the strumming of a harp, my inner being sighs for Kir Hareseth.

My heart cries out because of Moab’s plight, and for the fugitives stretched out as far as Zoar and Eglath Shelishiyah. For they weep as they make their way up the ascent of Luhith; they loudly lament their demise on the road to Horonaim.