קׇרְחָה

I will turn your feasts into mourningand all your songs into lamentation.I will cause everyone to wear sackclothand every head to be shaved.I will make it like a time of mourning for an only son,and its outcome like a bitter day.

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Dibon goes up to its templeto weep at its high places.Moab wails over Nebo,as well as over Medeba.Every head is shaved,every beard is cut off.

Instead of fragrancethere will be a stench;instead of a belt, a rope;instead of styled hair, baldness;instead of fine clothing, sackcloth;instead of beauty, shame.

For every head is shavedand every beard is clipped;on every hand is a gash,and around every waist is sackcloth.