Chapter 17

 The burden of Damascus. Lo, Damascus is taken away from [being] a city, And it hath been a heap -- a ruin. 

 Forsaken are the cities of Aroer, For droves they are, and they have lain down, And there is none troubling. 

 And ceased hath the fortress from Ephraim, And the kingdom from Damascus, And the remnant of Aram are as the honour of the sons of Israel, The affirmation of Jehovah of Hosts! 

 And it hath come to pass, in that day, Wax poor doth the honour of Jacob, And the fatness of his flesh doth wax lean. 

 And it hath come to pass, As the gathering by the reaper of the standing corn, And his arm the ears reapeth, And it hath come to pass, As the gathering of the ears in the valley of Rephaim, 

 And left in him have been gleanings, As the compassing of an olive, Two -- three berries on the top of a branch, Four -- five on the fruitful boughs, The affirmation of Jehovah, God of Israel! 

 In that day doth man look to His Maker, Yea, his eyes to the Holy One of Israel look, 

 And he looketh not unto the altars. The work of his own hands, And that which his own fingers made He seeth not -- the shrines and the images. 

 In that day are the cities of his strength As the forsaken thing of the forest, And the branch that they have left, Because of the sons of Israel, It also hath been a desolation. 

 Because thou hast forgotten the God of thy salvation, And the rock of thy strength hast not remembered, Therefore thou plantest plants of pleasantness, And with a strange slip sowest it, 

 In the day thy plant thou causest to become great, And in the morning thy seed makest to flourish, A heap [is] the harvest in a day of overflowing, And of mortal pain. 

 Wo [to] the multitude of many peoples, As the sounding of seas they sound; And [to] the wasting of nations, As the wasting of mighty waters they are wasted. 

 Nations as the wasting of many waters are wasted, And He hath pushed against it, And it hath fled afar off, And been pursued as chaff of hills before wind, And as a rolling thing before a hurricane. 

 At even-time, lo, terror, before morning it is not, This [is] the portion of our spoilers, And the lot of our plunderers!