Send the tribute lambs to the ruler of the land, from Sela in the desert to the mount of Daughter Zion. Like fluttering birds pushed out of the nest, so are the daughters of Moab at the fords of the Arnon: “Give us counsel; render a decision. Shelter us at noonday with shade as dark as night. Hide the refugees; do not betray the one who flees. Let my fugitives stay with you; be a refuge for Moab from the destroyer.” When the oppressor has gone, destruction has ceased, and the oppressors have vanished from the land, in loving devotion a throne will be established in the tent of David. A judge seeking justice and hastening righteousness will sit on it in faithfulness. . . .

This is the burden against Moab: Ar in Moab is ruined, destroyed in a night! Kir in Moab is devastated, destroyed in a night! Dibon goes up to its temple to weep at its high places. Moab wails over Nebo, as well as over Medeba. Every head is shaved, every beard is cut off. In its streets they wear sackcloth; on the rooftops and in the public squares they all wail, falling down weeping. Heshbon and Elealeh cry out; their voices are heard as far as Jahaz. Therefore the soldiers of Moab cry out; their souls tremble within. My heart cries out over Moab; her fugitives flee as far as Zoar, as far as Eglath-shelishiyah. With weeping they ascend the slope of Luhith; they lament their destruction on the road to Horonaim. . . .

Woe to you, O Ariel, the city of Ariel where David camped! Year upon year let your festivals recur. And I will constrain Ariel, and there will be mourning and lamentation; she will be like an altar hearth before Me. I will camp in a circle around you; I will besiege you with towers and set up siege works against you. You will be brought low, you will speak from the ground, and out of the dust your words will be muffled. Your voice will be like a spirit from the ground; your speech will whisper out of the dust. But your many foes will be like fine dust, the multitude of the ruthless like blowing chaff. Then suddenly, in an instant, . . .