YLT(i)
1 The Burden of Tyre. Howl, ye ships of Tarshish, For it hath been destroyed, Without house, without entrance, From the land of Chittim it was revealed to them.
2 Be silent, ye inhabitants of the isle, Trader of Zidon, passing the sea, they filled thee.
3 And in many waters is the seed of Sihor, The harvest of the brook is her increase, And she is a mart of nations.
4 Be ashamed, O Zidon; for the sea spake, The strength of the sea, saying: `I have not been pained, nor have I brought forth, Nor have I nourished young men, nor brought up virgins.'
5 As at the report of Egypt they are pained, So at the report of Tyre.
6 Pass over to Tarshish, howl, ye inhabitants of the isle,
7 Is this your exulting one? From the days of old is her antiquity, Carry her do her own feet afar off to sojourn.
8 Who hath counselled this against Tyre, The crowning one, whose traders are princes, Her merchants the honoured of earth?'