All your fortresses are like fig trees with first-ripe figs— if shaken they fall into the mouth of the eater.

Draw water for the siege; strengthen your forts; go into the clay; tread the mortar; take hold of the brick mold!

There will the fire devour you; the sword will cut you off. It will devour you like the locust. Multiply yourselves like the locust; multiply like the grasshopper!

You increased your merchants more than the stars of the heavens. The locust spreads its wings and flies away.

Your princes are like grasshoppers, your scribes like clouds of locusts settling on the fences in a day of cold— when the sun rises, they fly away; no one knows where they are.

Your shepherds are asleep, O king of Assyria; your nobles slumber. Your people are scattered on the mountains with none to gather them.