Dual Panel1Moab: an oracle. On the night when Ar is laid waste, Moab meets her doom; on the night when Kir is laid waste, Moab meets her doom.
2The people of Dibon go up to the shrines to weep; Moab is wailing over Nebo and over Medeba. Every head is shaven, every beard cut off.
3In their streets they wear sackcloth, they cry out on the roofs; in the public squares every one wails, streaming with tears.
4Heshbon and Elealeh cry out in distress, their voices carry to Jahaz. So Moab's stoutest warriors become alarmed, and their courage ebbs away.
5My heart cries out for Moab, whose fugitives have reached Zoar, as far as Eglath-shelishiyah. On the ascent to Luhith they go up weeping; on the road to Horonaim there are cries of “Disaster!”
6The waters of Nimrim are desolate; the grass is parched, the herbage dead, not a green thing is left;
7the people carry across the wadi Arabim their hard-earned wealth and hoarded savings.
8The cry of distress echoes round the frontiers of Moab, their wailing reaches Eglaim and Beer-elim.
9The waters of Dibon run with blood; yet I have worse in store for Dibon: a lion for the survivors of Moab, and for the remnant of Admah.