Zechariah.
Chapter 11.
Open, O Lebanon, your doors, || And fire devours among your cedars. 
Howl, O fir, for the cedar has fallen, || For their majestic ones were destroyed, || Howl, you oaks of Bashan, || For the enclosed forest has come down, 
A voice of the howling of the shepherds! For their robe of honor was destroyed, || A voice of the roaring of young lions! For the excellence of Jordan was destroyed. 
Thus said my God YHWH: “Feed the flock of the slaughter, 
Whose buyers slay them, and are not guilty, || And their sellers say, Blessed is YHWH, || And I am rich, || And their shepherds have no pity on them. 
For I no longer have pity on inhabitants of the land, || A declaration of YHWH, || And behold, I am causing man to come forth, || Each into the hand of his neighbor, || And into the hand of his king, || And they have beaten down the land, || And I do not deliver out of their hand.” 
And I feed the flock of slaughter, even you, you afflicted of the flock; and I take two staffs to myself; I have called one Pleasantness, and I have called the other Bands, and I feed the flock. 
And I cut off the three shepherds in one month, and my soul is grieved with them, and also their soul has abhorred me. 
And I say, “I do not feed you, the dying, let die; and the cut off, let be cut off; and the remaining ones, let each eat the flesh of its neighbor.” 
And I take my staff Pleasantness, and cut it apart, to make void my covenant that I had made with all the peoples: 
and it is broken in that day, and the afflicted of the flock who are observing me know well, that it is a word of YHWH. 
And I say to them: “If good in your eyes, give my hire, and if not, refrain”; and they weigh out my hire—thirty pieces of silver. 
And YHWH says to me, “Cast it to the potter”; the good price that I have been prized at by them, and I take the thirty pieces of silver, and cast them into the house of YHWH, to the potter. 
And I cut apart my second staff, Bands, || To break the unity between Judah and Israel. 
And YHWH says to me, “Again take to yourself the instrument of a foolish shepherd. 
For behold, I am raising up a shepherd in the land, || The cut off he does not inspect, || The shaken off he does not seek, || And the broken he does not heal, || The standing he does not sustain, || And the flesh of the fat he eats, || And their hooves he breaks off. 
Woe to the worthless shepherd, forsaking the flock, || A sword is on his arm, and on his right eye, || His arm is utterly dried up, || And his right eye is very dim!” 
