Isaiah 21:1-10 The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south pass through; so it comes from the desert, from a terrible land.… It is a magnificent specimen of Hebrew poetry in its abrupt energy and passionate intensity. The prophet is, or imagines himself to be, in Babylon. Suddenly he sees a storm of invasion sweeping down through the desert, which fills him with alarm. Out of the rolling whirlwind troops of armed warriors flash into distinctness. A splendid banquet is being held in the great Chaldean city; the tables are set, the carpets are spread; they eat, they drink, the revel is at its height. Suddenly a wild cry is heard, "Arise, ye princes, anoint the shield!" — in other words, the foe is at hand. "Spring up from the banquet, smear with" oil the leathern coverings of your shields that the blows of the enemy may slide off from them in battle. The clang of arms disturbs the Babylonian feast. The prophet sitting, as it were an illuminated spirit, as a watchman upon the tower calls aloud to ask me cause of the terror. What is it that the watchman sees? The watchman, with deep, impatient groan, as of a lion, complains that he sees nothing; that he has been set there, apparently for no purpose, all day and all night long. But even as he speaks there suddenly arises an awful need for his look-out. From the land of storm and desolation, the desert between the Persian Gulf and Babylon, he sees a huge and motley host, some mounted on horses, some on asses, some on camels, plunging forward through the night. It is the host of Cyrus on his march against Babylon. In the advent of that Persian host he sees the downfall of the dynasty of Nebuchadnezzar and the liberation of Judah from her exile. On the instant, as though secure of victory, he cries out, "Babylon is fallen." And he, that is, Cyrus the Persian king, a monotheist though he be, a worshipper of fire and the sun, has dashed in pieces all the graven images of the city of Nimrod. Then he cries to his fellow exiles in Babylonian captivity, "O my people, crushed and trodden down" — literally, "O my grain, and the son of my threshing floor" — "this is my prophecy for you; it is a prophecy of victory for your champions; it is a prophecy of deliverance for yourselves." (Dean Farrar, D. D.) Parallel Verses KJV: The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south pass through; so it cometh from the desert, from a terrible land. |
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