Add parallel Print Page Options

17 Your guards are like locusts.
    Your officers are like swarms of locusts
    that settle in the walls on a cold day.
But when the sun comes up they fly away.
    And no one knows where they have gone.
18 King of Assyria, your rulers are asleep.
    Your important men lie down to rest.
Your people have been scattered on the mountains.
    And there is no one to bring them back.
19 Nothing can heal your wound.
    Your injury will not heal.
Everyone who hears about you applauds
    because everyone has felt your endless cruelty.

Read full chapter

17 Thy commanders are as the swarming locusts, and thy officials as the great grasshoppers, which camp in the hedges on a cold day, but when the shemesh ariseth they flee away, and their place is whereabouts unknown.

18 Thy ro’im (shepherds) slumber, O melech of Asshur (Assyria); thy nobles shall dwell in the dust; thy people are scattered upon the mountains, and no man gathereth them.

19 There is no healing of thy shever (fracture, injury); thy wound is grievous; all that hear the news of thee shall clap their hands over thy fall; for upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed tamid (continually)?

Read full chapter