⁶ Oh yes, we’ve heard of Moab, how much they think of themselves—
    so important, so valuable, so hot-tempered;
But we know it’s just idle boasts.
⁷ Let them bemoan their destruction and fall—every last one of them.
    Go ahead, mourn, all you who were struck down;
Cry for the raisin cakes of Kir-hareseth.

⁸ The productive fields of Heshbon are withering in the heat;
    the choice vines of Sibmah are decimated.
The rulers of the nations are wreaking havoc across the land,
    crushing its grape clusters and leveling its old stout vines.
Moab’s tender shoots spread from Jazer to the desert,
    then right down to the sea^[a] and even across it.