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He has placed them under the ban

Given them up to slaughter

Their slain shall be cast out

Their corpses shall send up a stench

The mountains shall run with their blood

The heavens shall be

Rolled up like a scroll

All their host shall wither away

Its land shall become burning pitch

Its soil into sulfur

Night and day it shall not be quenched

Its smoke shall rise forever

From generation to generation it shall lie waste

Never again shall anyone pass through it

Its castles shall be overgrown with thorns

Its fortresses with thistles and briers

It shall become an abode for jackals

A haunt for ostriches

Satyrs shall call

The lilith repose

And find herself

A place to rest

For the mouth of the Lord has ordered it

And his spirit gathers them there

It is he who casts the lot for them

His hand measures of their portions

They shall possess it forever

When my sword has drunk its fill in the heavens

It shall come down for judgment

Upon a people under my ban

A great slaughter in the land

All the host of heaven shall rot

All their host shall wither away