17-19 “All the ship captains and travelers by sea, sailors and toilers of the sea, stood off at a distance and cried their lament when they saw the smoke from her burning: ‘Oh, what a city! There was never a city like her!’ They threw dust on their heads and cried as if the world had come to an end:
Doom, doom, the great city doomed!
All who owned ships or did business by sea
Got rich on her getting and spending.
And now it’s over—wiped out in one hour!
20 “O Heaven, celebrate! And join in, saints, apostles, and prophets! God has judged her; every wrong you suffered from her has been judged.”
21-24 A strong Angel reached for a boulder—huge, like a millstone—and heaved it into the sea, saying,
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.