Isaiah.
Chapter 17.
The burden of Damascus. Behold, Damascus is taken away from being a city, || And it has been a heap—a ruin. 
The cities of Aroer are forsaken, || They are for droves, and they have lain down, || And there is none troubling. 
And the fortress has ceased from Ephraim, || And the kingdom from Damascus, || And the remnant of Aram are as the glory of the sons of Israel, || A declaration of YHWH of Hosts! 
And it has come to pass in that day, || The glory of Jacob waxes poor, || And the fatness of his flesh waxes lean. 
And it has come to pass, || As the gathering of the standing grain by the reaper, || And his arm reaps the ears, || And it has come to pass, || As the gathering of the ears in the Valley of Rephaim, 
And gleanings have been left in him, || As the surrounding of an olive, || Two—three berries on the top of a branch, || Four—five on the fruitful boughs, || A declaration of YHWH, God of Israel! 
In that day man looks to His Maker, || Indeed, his eyes look to the Holy One of Israel, 
And he does not look to the altars. The work of his own hands, || And that which his own fingers made, He does not see—the Asherim and the images. 
In that day the cities of his strength are || As the forsaken thing of the forest, || And the branch that they have left, || Because of the sons of Israel, || It has also been a desolation. 
Because you have forgotten the God of your salvation, || And have not remembered the Rock of your strength, || Therefore you plant plants of pleasantness, || And sow it with a strange shoot, 
You cause your plant to become great in the day, || And make your seed to flourish in the morning, || The harvest is a heap in a day of overflowing, || And of mortal pain. 
Woe to the multitude of many peoples, || They sound as the sounding of seas; And the roaring of nations, || As the roaring of mighty waters that make a crashing. 
Nations crash as the roaring of many waters, || And He rebuked them, || And they fled far off, || And were pursued as chaff of hills before wind, || And as a rolling thing before a windstorm. 
At evening, behold, terror, before morning it is not, || This is the portion of our spoilers, || And the lot of our plunderers! 
