¹⁸Slumbered have thy friends, king of Asshur, Rest do thine honourable ones, Scattered have been thy people on the mountains, And there is none gathering. ¹⁹There is no weakening of thy destruction, Grievous is thy smiting, All hearing thy fame have clapped the hand at thee, For over whom did not thy wickedness pass continually?

Chapter 1

Read in Logos

Public Domain.

In other versions

ESVEnglish Standard Version

Your shepherds are asleep,

O king of Assyria;

your nobles slumber.

Your people are scattered on the mountains

with none to gather them.

There is no easing your hurt;

your wound is grievous.

All who hear the news about you

clap their hands over you.

For upon whom has not come

your unceasing evil?

NIVNew International Version (2011)

King of Assyria, your shepherds slumber;

your nobles lie down to rest.

Your people are scattered on the mountains

with no one to gather them.

Nothing can heal you;

your wound is fatal.

All who hear the news about you

clap their hands at your fall,

for who has not felt

your endless cruelty?

CSBChristian Standard Bible

King of Assyria, your shepherds slumber;

your officers sleep.

Your people are scattered across the mountains

with no one to gather them together.

There is no remedy for your injury;

your wound is severe.

All who hear the news about you

will clap their hands because of you,

for who has not experienced

your constant cruelty?

NLTNew Living Translation

Your shepherds are asleep, O Assyrian king;

your princes lie dead in the dust.

Your people are scattered across the mountains

with no one to gather them together.

There is no healing for your wound;

your injury is fatal.

All who hear of your destruction

will clap their hands for joy.

Where can anyone be found

who has not suffered from your continual cruelty?

LEBThe Lexham English Bible

Your shepherds are sleeping, O king of Assyria!

Your nobles slumber.

Your people are scattered on the mountains;

no one can gather them.

There is no healing for your wound;

your injury is fatal.

All who hear the report of you will clap their hands for joy concerning you,

For who has not suffered at the hands of your endless cruelty?

KJV 1900King James Version

Thy shepherds slumber, O king of Assyria: thy nobles shall dwell in the dust:

Thy people is scattered upon the mountains, and no man gathereth them.

There is no healing of thy bruise; thy wound is grievous:

All that hear the bruit of thee shall clap the hands over thee:

For upon whom hath not thy wickedness passed continually?

Public Domain