1Woe, land of whirring wings, which lies beyond the rivers of Cush;
2who sends envoys by the sea, in vessels of papyrus on the face of the waters. Go, swift messengers, to a nation tall and polished, to a people feared near and far, a nation of might upon might and trampling, whose land the rivers cut through.
3All you who dwell in the world, and you who settle in the land: when a banner is lifted on the mountains, you will see it; and when a horn is blown, you will hear it.
4For thus Yahweh said to me: I will keep quiet and look on in my settled place, like glowing heat upon the light, like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.
5For before the harvest, when the blossom is finished and the sour grape becomes a ripening flower, he will cut off the twigs with pruning knives, and the tendrils he will remove, he will lop away.
6Together they will be forsaken to the bird of prey of the mountains and to the livestock of the land; and the bird of prey will spend the summer on it, and all the livestock of the land will spend the winter on it.
7At that time tribute will be brought to Yahweh of hosts from a people tall and smooth-skinned, from a people feared from that point and beyond, a nation of mighty might and trampling, whose land rivers cut through, to the place of the name of Yahweh of hosts, Mount Zion.