Isaías 14

Lamente-toi, porte, crie ta plainte, cité! Tu es toute défaillante, terre des Philistins: c'est qu'une fumée s'avance du Nord. Personne ne reste en arrière dans ses légions assemblées.

Aulla, oh puerta; clama, oh ciudad; disuelta estás toda tú, Filistea: porque humo vendrá de aquilón, no quedará uno solo en sus asambleas.

Howl, O gate; cry, O city; thou, whole Palestina, art dissolved: for there shall come from the north a smoke, and none shall be alone in his appointed times.

Howl, gate! Cry, city! You are melted away, Philistia, all of you; for smoke comes out of the north, and there is no straggler in his ranks.