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15 The burden of Moab.
For in the night that Ar is devastated,
    Moab is ruined;
for in the night that Kir is devastated,
    Moab is ruined.
He has gone up to the shrine, to Dibon,
    to the high places to weep.
Moab wails over Nebo and Medeba.
Every head is bald, every beard shaven.
In their streets they wear sackcloth.
On their housetops and in their plazas,
    everyone wails, weeping profusely.
Heshbon and Elealeh cry out.
Their voice is heard as far as Jahaz.
Therefore the soldiers of Moab cry aloud,
    his soul faints within him.
My heart cries out for Moab.
Her fugitives are as far as Zoar
    as a three year old heifer,
for by the ascent of Luhith
    they go up with weeping,
for on the way of Horonaim
    they raise a cry of distress.
The waters of Nimrim are desolate.
The grass is withered away,
the new grass withers,
there is nothing green.
Therefore the riches they had gotten
and whatever they have stored,
they carry over the Wadi of Willows.
For the cry has gone around
the borders of Moab,
the wailing to Eglaim,
and the wailing to Beer-elim.
For the waters of Dimon are full of blood,
but I will bring on Dimon even more—
a lion for those escaping from Moab,
and for those remaining in the land.