1The prophecy concerning Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish! For it is laid waste; No house, no entrance is left! From the land of the Chittaeans were the tidings brought to them.

2Be amazed, ye inhabitants of the sea-coast, Which the merchants of Sidon, that pass over the sea, did crowd!

3Upon the wide waters, the corn of the Nile, The harvest of the river, was her revenue; She was the mart of the nations.

4Be thou ashamed, O Sidon, for the sea hath spoken, The fortress of the sea hath spoken thus: “I have not travailed, nor brought forth children; I have not nourished youths, nor brought up virgins.”

5When the tidings shall reach Egypt, They shall be filled with anguish at the tidings concerning Tyre.

6Pass ye over to Tarshish; Howl, ye inhabitants of the sea-coast!

7Is this your joyous city, Whose antiquity is of ancient days? Now her own feet bear her To sojourn far away.

8Who hath purposed this against Tyre, The dispenser of crowns, Whose merchants are princes, Whose traders the nobles of the earth?

9Jehovah of hosts hath purposed it, To bring down the pride of all glory, To humble the nobles of the earth.

10Go over thy land like the Nile, O daughter of Tarshish! Now thy bonds are broken.

11He hath stretched out his hand over the sea, He hath made the kingdoms tremble; Jehovah hath given commandment concerning Canaan To destroy her strong holds.

12He hath said, Thou shalt no more rejoice, Thou ravished virgin, daughter of Sidon! Arise, pass over to the Chittaeans; Yet even there shalt thou have no rest.

13Behold the land of the Chaldaeans, Who, not long ago, were not a people,—The Assyrian assigned it to the inhabitants of the wilderness,—They raise their watch-towers; They destroy her palaces; They make her a heap of ruins.

14Howl, ye ships of Tarshish! For your stronghold is destroyed.

15And it shall come to pass in that day, That Tyre shall be forgotten seventy years, According to the days of one king; But at the end of seventy years It shall be with Tyre as in the song of the harlot:

16“Take thy lyre, go about the city, O harlot, long forgotten; Make sweet melody; sing many songs, That thou mayst again be remembered!”

17At the end of seventy years shall Jehovah show regard to Tyre, And she shall return to her hire, And play the harlot with all the kingdoms of the world, That are upon the face of the earth.

18But her gain and her hire shall be holy to Jehovah; It shall not be treasured, nor laid up in store; But it shall be for them that dwell before Jehovah, For abundant food, and for splendid clothing.