CHAPTER 18
1 Woe to the land, the cymbal of wings, which is beyond the flood of Ethiopia;
2 that sendeth messengers by the sea, and in vessels of papyrus on waters. Go, ye messengers, to the folk drawn up and rent; to a fearedful people, after which is none other; to the folk abiding and defouled, whose land the floods have ravished; to the hill [or mount] of the name of the Lord of hosts, to the hill [or mount] of Zion.
3 All ye dwellers of the world, that dwell in the land, shall see when a sign shall be raised [up] in the hills [or mountains], and ye shall hear the cry of a trump.
4 For why the Lord saith these things to me, I shall rest, and I shall behold in my place, as the midday light is clear, and as a cloud of dew in the day of harvest.
5 For why all flowered out before harvest, and unripe perfection burgeoned; and the little branches thereof shall be cut down with scythes, and those that be left, shall be cut away.
6 They shall be shaken out, and shall be left together to the birds of hills [or mountains], and to the beasts of earth; and birds shall be on him by a summer everlasting, and all the beasts of earth shall dwell by winter on him.
7 In that time a gift shall be brought to the Lord of hosts, of the people drawn up and rent; of the people fearedful, after which was none other; of the folk abiding and defouled, whose land floods ravished; the gift shall be brought to the place of the name of the Lord of hosts, to the hill [or mount] of Zion.