Wail, shepherds! Cry out for help!Grovel in the dirt, you masters of flocks!Time’s up—you’re slated for the slaughterhouse,like a choice ram with its throat cut.There’s no way out for the rulers,no escape for those shepherds.Hear that? Rulers crying for help,shepherds of the flock wailing!God is about to ravage their fine pastures.The peaceful sheepfolds will be silent with death,silenced by God’s deadly anger.God will come out into the openlike a lion leaping from its cover,And the country will be torn to pieces,ripped and ravaged by his anger.