1 Eis a mensagem de Deus sobre Moabe: Numa só noite as tuas cidades de Ar e de Quir serão destruídas.

2 O teu povo em Dibom vai-se lamentando; vão para os templos lamentando-se pelo destino que Nebo e Medeba vão ter; rapam as cabeças de tristeza e cortam as barbas. Andam vestidos de sacos pelas ruas; e de cada casa saem clamores de lamentações.

4 Os choros, nas cidades de Hesbom e de Eleale, até de longe se ouvem, até mesmo em Jaaz! E os mais valentes dos combatentes de Moabe gritam de terror.

5 O meu coração chora por causa de Moabe! O seu povo foge para Zoar e para Eglate. Vão subindo a ladeira até Luite a chorar, e os seus prantos ouvir-se-ão por todo o caminho de Horonaim.

6 Até o ribeiro de Ninrim se tornou num sítio desolado - as suas verdes margens secaram; desapareceu toda a vegetação.

7 Os que fogem, desesperados, levam apenas o que podem transportar consigo, e atravessam fugindo o ribeiro dos Salgueiros.

8 A terra toda de Moabe está em pranto, duma ponta à outra.

9 A torrente que passa em Dibom ficará vermelha por causa do sangue, mas isto ainda não será tudo, quanto a Dibom! Por fim andarão leões atrás dos sobreviventes, aqueles que escaparam e ficaram na terra.

1 The oracle on Moab: Because, in a night, was laid waste Ar of Moabdestroyed! Because, in a night, was laid waste Kir of Moabdestroyed,

2 He hath gone up to Bayith and Dibon, to the high places, to weep,On Nebo and on Medeba, Moab is howling, On all their heads, a baldness, Every beard, clipped.

3 In their streets, have they girded them with sackcloth,On their housetops, and in their broadways, every one is howlingmelting in tears;

4 And Heshbon, hath made outcry, and Elealeh, Unto Jahaz, hath been heard their voice,For this cause, do the armed men of Moab roar, Every mans soul, quivereth to him.

5 Mine own heart, for Moab continueth to make outcry, Her fugitive, as far as Zoar, is like a heifer of three years; For the accent of Luhith, with weeping, they ascend, For by the way of Horonaiman outcry of destruction, they excite;

6 For, the waters of Nimrim, shall become desolation,For grass, hath dried up, Herbage hath failed, Green thing, hath not sprung up!

7 For this cause, the savings they had made and that which they had stored, Over the torrent-bed of the willows, shall they bear them.

8 For the outcry hath gone round the boundary of Moab,As far as Eglaim, the howling thereof, And to Beer-elim, the howling thereof.

9 For the waters of Dimon, are full of blood, For I will lay upon Dimon new troubles,To the escaped of Moab, the lions, Even to the survivors on the soil.