16. You increased your merchantsmore than the stars of the heavens. The locust spreads its wings and flies away.
17. Your princes are like grasshoppers, your scribes like clouds of locustssettling on the fencesin a day of cold—when the sun rises, they fly away;no one knows where they are.
18. Your shepherds are asleep,O king of Assyria; your nobles slumber.Your people are scattered on the mountainswith none to gather them.
19. There is no easing your hurt; your wound is grievous.All who hear the news about you clap their hands over you.For upon whom has not comeyour unceasing evil?