God roars from Zion,
    shouts from Jerusalem!
The thunderclap voice withers the pastures tended by shepherds,
    shrivels Mount Carmel’s proud peak.

“Because of the three great sins of Damascus
    —make that four—I’m not putting up with her any longer.
She pounded Gilead to a pulp, pounded her senseless
    with iron hammers and mauls.
For that, I’m setting the palace of Hazael on fire.
    I’m torching Ben-hadad’s forts.
I’m going to smash the Damascus gates
    and banish the crime king who lives in Sin Valley,
    the vice boss who gives orders from Paradise Palace.
The people of the land will be sent back
    to where they came from—to Kir.”
        God’s Decree.