THE HEART of the rulers is sick, and the high-priest covers his head:|
For this is the song of the quick that is heard in the ears of the dead.
The poor and the halt and the blind are keen and mighty and fleet:
The wind has the sound of a laugh in the clamour of days and of deeds:
The high-priest sick from qualms, with his raiment bloodily dashed;
They are smitten, they tremble greatly, they are pained for their pleasant things:
They are grieved and greatly afraid; they are taken, they shall not flee:
They were fair in the grace of gold, they walked with delicate feet:
For the breaking of gold in their hair they halt as a man made lame:
Wilt thou judge thy people now, O king that wast found most wise?
Shall God make a pact with thee, till his hook be found in thy sides?
Set a word in thy lips, to stand before God with a word in thy mouth;
But the arm of the elders is broken, their strength is unbound and undone:
Their moan is in every place, the cry of them filleth the land:
They are girdled about the reins with a curse for the girdle thereon:
For the sound of the shouting of men they are grievously stricken at heart:
There is none of them all that is whole; their lips gape open for breath;
The wind is thwart in their feet; it is full of the shouting of mirth;
The sword, the sword is made keen; the iron has opened its mouth;
The sound of a word was shed, the sound of the wind as a breath,
Where the face of the moon is taken, the ways of the stars undone,
Where the waters are emptied and broken, the waves of the waters are stayed;
Where the sword was covered and hidden, and dust had grown in its side,
The sides of the two-edged sword shall be bare, and its mouth shall be red,