¹ Bel bows down. Nebo stoops.
Babylon’s idols are a heavy load, carried by animals and cattle.
They are dead weight for the tired animals that carry them.
² The animals stoop. They bow down together.
They are not able to save their burdensome load.
They go into captivity.

³ Listen to me, O house of Jacob,
all of you who are left from the house of Israel,
you who have been carried from birth,
you who have been lifted up from before you were born.
⁴     Until your old age, I am he,
    and until you have gray hair, I myself will hold you up.
    I myself made you, and I myself will lift you up.
    I myself will hold you up, and I will rescue you.

⁵ Whom can you set beside me as if we were equal?
Whom can you compare to me as if we were alike?
⁶ People pour out gold from a purse
and weigh out silver on a scale.
They hire a smith,
and he makes the metal into a god.
They bow down to it. They even worship it.
⁷ They lift it up. They carry it on their shoulders.
They set it up in its place, but it just stands there.
It cannot move from its place.
Even when someone cries out to it, it does not answer.
It cannot save him from his distress.
⁸ Remember this, and stand firm.
You rebels, take this to heart!

⁹ Remember the former ^[1] things that took place long ago,
for I am God, and there is no other.
I am God, and there is no one like me.
¹⁰ I am the one who announces the final outcome already in the beginning.
I announce ahead of time things that have not yet been done.
I am the one who says, “My plan will stand,
and I will do everything I want to do.”
¹¹ I am the one who calls a bird of prey from the east.
I call the man who fulfills my plan from a faraway land.
Yes, I have spoken. I will certainly bring it to pass.
I have formed a plan, and I will certainly carry it out.
¹² Listen to me, you who have stubborn hearts,
you who are far from righteousness.
¹³ I will bring my righteousness near. It will not be far away.
I will bring my salvation near. It will not be delayed.
I will set up salvation in Zion,
and I will show my splendor to Israel.

Go down and sit in the dust, you virgin daughter of Babylon.
Sit on the ground without a throne, daughter of the Chaldeans,
for you will never again be called delicate and pampered.
² Take millstones and grind meal.
Remove your veil. Strip off your skirt.
Expose your thighs. Wade through rivers.
³ Let your nakedness be exposed.
Let your shame be seen!
I will take vengeance.
I will not spare anyone.

⁵ Daughter of the Chaldeans, sit silently, and enter into the darkness,
for you will never again be called queen of the kingdoms.
⁶ I was angry with my people.
I defiled my heritage.
I gave them into your hand.
You showed them no mercy.
Even on the aged you made your yoke very heavy.
⁷ You said, “I will be a lady forever.”
You did not take these things to heart.
You did not remember how this will turn out.
⁸ But now hear this, you wanton lover of pleasure,
who sits securely,
who says in her heart,
“I am the one, and there is no one except me.
I will not live as a widow.
I will not experience the loss of children.”
⁹ But these two things will come upon you in an instant, in one day:
loss of children and widowhood.
They will come to you in full measure
in spite of your many magic spells,
in spite of the great power of your magic charms.

¹⁰ You felt secure in your wickedness.
You said, “No one sees me.”
Your wisdom and your knowledge led you astray.
So you said in your heart, “I am the one,
and there is not another one beside me.”
¹¹ But disaster will come upon you.
You do not know when it will come.
Calamity will fall upon you.
You will not be able to atone for it.
A devastating blow that you did not expect will come
    upon you suddenly.
¹² Go ahead, stand secure in your magic charms
    and in your many magic spells,
    with which you have been laboring since your youth.
Perhaps you will be able to profit.
Perhaps you will be able to inspire terror.
¹³ You are worn out by all the advice you receive.
Let them stand up and save you—
those who make charts of the skies to practice astrology,
those who gaze at the stars to obtain omens,
those who predict what will happen to you on each new moon.
¹⁴ Look, they are nothing but stubble.
Fire consumes them.
They are not able to save themselves from the power of the flame.
There are no burning coals to warm their food. ^[2]
There is no firelight to sit in front of.
¹⁵ They can do nothing more for you—
those who have worn you out with all their dealings with you
    from your youth.
Each one wanders in his own direction.
There is no one left to save you.