Heaved and sunk, the great city Babylon,
    sunk in the sea, not a sign of her ever again.
Silent the music of harpists and singers—
    you’ll never hear flutes and trumpets again.
Artisans of every kind—gone;
    you’ll never see their likes again.
The voice of a millstone grinding falls dumb;
    you’ll never hear that sound again.
The light from lamps, never again;
    never again laughter of bride and groom.
Her traders robbed the whole earth blind,
    and by black-magic arts deceived the nations.
The only thing left of Babylon is blood—
    the blood of saints and prophets,
    the murdered and the martyred.