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And cry doth Heshbon and Elealeh, Unto Jahaz heard hath been their voice, Therefore the armed ones of Moab do shout, His life hath been grievous to him.

My heart [is] toward Moab, Cry do her fugitives unto Zoar, a heifer of the third [year], For -- the ascent of Luhith -- With weeping he goeth up in it, For, in the way of Horonaim, A cry of destruction they wake up.

For, the waters of Nimrim are desolations, For, withered hath been the hay, Finished hath been the tender grass, A green thing there hath not been.

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