Nahum Chapter 3 (NASB)
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Woe to the bloody city, completely full of lies [and] pillage; [Her] prey never departs.
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The noise of the whip, The noise of the rattling of the wheel, Galloping horses And bounding chariots!
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Horsemen charging, Swords flashing, spears gleaming, Many slain, a mass of corpses, And countless dead bodies-- They stumble over the dead bodies!
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[All] because of the many harlotries of the harlot, The charming one, the mistress of sorceries, Who sells nations by her harlotries And families by her sorceries.
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'Behold, I am against you,' declares the LORD of hosts; 'And I will lift up your skirts over your face, And show to the nations your nakedness And to the kingdoms your disgrace.
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'I will throw filth on you And make you vile, And set you up as a spectacle.
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'And it will come about that all who see you Will shrink from you and say, 'Nineveh is devastated! Who will grieve for her?' Where will I seek comforters for you?'
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Are you better than No-amon, Which was situated by the waters of the Nile, With water surrounding her, Whose rampart [was] the sea, Whose wall [consisted] of the sea?
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Ethiopia was [her] might, And Egypt too, without limits. Put and Lubim were among her helpers.
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Yet she became an exile, She went into captivity; Also her small children were dashed to pieces At the head of every street; They cast lots for her honorable men, And all her great men were bound with fetters.
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You too will become drunk, You will be hidden. You too will search for a refuge from the enemy.
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All your fortifications are fig trees with ripe fruit-- When shaken, they fall into the eater's mouth.
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Behold, your people are women in your midst! The gates of your land are opened wide to your enemies; Fire consumes your gate bars.
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Draw for yourself water for the siege! Strengthen your fortifications! Go into the clay and tread the mortar! Take hold of the brick mold!
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There fire will consume you, The sword will cut you down; It will consume you as the locust [does]. Multiply yourself like the creeping locust, Multiply yourself like the swarming locust.
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You have increased your traders more than the stars of heaven-- The creeping locust strips and flies away.
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Your guardsmen are like the swarming locust. Your marshals are like hordes of grasshoppers Settling in the stone walls on a cold day. The sun rises and they flee, And the place where they are is not known.
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Your shepherds are sleeping, O king of Assyria; Your nobles are lying down. Your people are scattered on the mountains And there is no one to regather [them].
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There is no relief for your breakdown, Your wound is incurable. All who hear about you Will clap [their] hands over you, For on whom has not your evil passed continually?
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