This is the joyous city that dwelt carelessly, that said in her heart, I am, and there is none besides me: how is she become a desolation, a place for beasts to lie down in! every one that passeth by her shall hiss, and wag his hand.

This carefree city that dwells securely, that thinks to herself: “I am it, and there is none besides me,” what a ruin she has become, a resting place for beasts. Everyone who passes by her hisses and shakes his fist.

This is the exulting city that is dwelling confidently, That is saying in her heart, `I am , and beside me there is none,' How hath she been for a desolation, A crouching-place for beasts, Every one passing by her doth hiss, He doth shake his hand!

This is the rejoicing city that dwelt in security, that said in her heart, I am, and there is none else beside me: how is she become a desolation, a couching-place for beasts! Every one that passeth by her shall hiss, shall wave his hand.