Who can stand before his indignation? Who can endure the heat of his anger? His wrath is poured out like fire, and the rocks are broken into pieces by him.

For they are like entangled thorns, like drunkards as they drink; they are consumed like stubble fully dried.

The chariots race madly through the streets; they rush to and fro through the squares; they gleam like torches; they dart like lightning.

its mistress is stripped; she is carried off, her slave girls lamenting, moaning like doves and beating their breasts.

Nineveh is like a pool whose waters run away. “Halt! Halt!” they cry, but none turns back.

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

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!

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.