God shutteth me up unto the perverse, And to the hands of the wicked turneth me over.

Woe [to] Asshur, a rod of Mine anger, And a staff in their hand [is] Mine indignation.

Against a profane nation I send him, And concerning a people of My wrath I charge him, To spoil spoil, and to seize prey, And to make it a treading-place as the clay of out places.

And I have put it into the hand of those afflicting thee, Who have said to thy soul, Bow down, and we pass over, And thou makest as the earth thy body, And as the street to those passing by!'

On the right hand doth a brood arise, My feet they have cast away, And they raise up against me, Their paths of calamity.