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16 Multiply thy merchants above the stars of the heavens, The cankerworm hath stripped off, and doth flee away.

17 Thy crowned ones [are] as a locust, And thy princes as great grasshoppers, That encamp in hedges in a day of cold, The sun hath risen, and it doth flee away, And not known is its place where they are.

18 Slumbered have thy friends, king of Asshur, Rest do thine honourable ones, Scattered have been thy people on the mountains, And there is none gathering.

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