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1 Come down, and sit on the dust, O virgin daughter of Babylon, Sit on the earth, there is no throne, O daughter of the Chaldeans, For no more do they cry to thee, 'O tender and delicate one.' 2 Take millstones, and grind flour, Remove thy veil, draw up the skirt, Uncover the leg, pass over the floods. 3 Revealed is thy nakedness, yea, seen is thy reproach, Vengeance I take, and I meet not a man. 4 Our redeemer is Jehovah of Hosts, His name is the Holy One of Israel. 5 Sit silent, and go into darkness, O daughter of the Chaldeans, For no more do they cry to thee, 'Mistress of kingdoms.' Isaiah 47:1-5, Young's Literal Translation. Public domain.
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