CHAPTER 23
1 The burden of Tyre.
Howl, ye ships of Tarshish;
For desolation has been made,
So that there is no house,
That there is no entering in from the land of Chittim.
This was revealed to them.
2 Be silent, ye inhabitants of the islands,
The merchant of Sidon; they that crossed the sea;
Who supplied thee.
3 By great waters was the seed of the Nile;
Her fruits were the harvest of the river;
And she was a mart of nations.
4 Be ashamed, O Sidon;
For the sea hath spoken,
The strength of the sea, saying,
I have not conceived nor brought forth,
And I have not brought up young men,
And have not reared virgins.
5 As soon as the report shall reach the Egyptians,
They shall be grieved according to the report of Tyre.
6 Pass ye over to Tarshish;
Howl, ye inhabitants of the islands.
7 Is this your exulting city?
From ancient days is her antiquity.
Her feet shall carry her,
To travel into a distant country.
8 Who hath consulted this concerning crowning Tyre,
Whose merchants are princes,
Whose traders are the nobles of the land?
9 Thus hath Jehovah of hosts decreed,
To profane the pride of all that are illustrious,
To bring into contempt all the renowned of the land.
10 Cross over from thy land, like a river,
To the daughter of Tarshish;
For there is no longer any girdle.
11 He laid his hand upon the sea,
He shook kingdoms.
Jehovah hath commanded concerning Canaan,
To weaken her strength.
12 And he saith, O virgin daughter of Sidon,
When thou shalt be oppressed,
Thou shalt not add any more to rejoice.
Arise, that thou mayest pass over into Chittim;
Yet even there thou shalt not have rest.
13 Behold, the land of the Chaldeans;
This was not a people;
Assyria founded it for the inhabitants of the wilderness;
They have reared its fortresses;
They have built its palaces;
He hath reduced it to desolation.
14 Howl, ye ships of Tarshish;
For your strength is laid waste.
15 It shall come to pass in that day,
That Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years,
According to the days of one king;
At the end of seventy years
Shall Tyre have a song like that of a harlot.
16 Take a harp, go about the city,
O harlot, devoted to forgetfulness!
Make sweet melody, multiply song,
That thou mayest be kept in remembrance.
17 It shall then be at the end of seventy years,
That Jehovah will visit Tyre;
And then shall she return to her hire,
And shall commit fornication
With all the kingdoms of the earth
Which are upon the earth.
18 Yet her merchandise and her hire
Shall be holy to Jehovah;
It shall not be treasured nor laid up;
But her merchandise shall be
For them that dwell before Jehovah,
That they may eat sufficiently,
And may have a thick covering.