Isaiah 25

¹ Yahweh, you are my God, I extol you, I praise your name; for you have carried out your excellent design, long planned, trustworthy, true.

² For you have made the town a heap of stones, the fortified city a ruin. The citadel of the proud is a city no longer, it will never be rebuilt.

³ Hence a mighty people gives you glory, the city of pitiless nations holds you in awe;

⁴ for you are a refuge for the poor, a refuge for the needy in distress, a shelter from the storm, a shade from the heat; while the breath of pitiless men is like the winter storm.

⁵ Like drought in a dry land you will repress the clamour of the proud; like heat by the shadow of a cloud the singing of the despots will be subdued.

⁶ On this mountain, Yahweh Sabaoth will prepare for all peoples a banquet of rich food, a banquet of fine wines, of food rich and juicy, of fine strained wines.

⁷ On this mountain he will remove the mourning veil covering all peoples, and the shroud enwrapping all nations,

⁸ he will destroy Death for ever. The Lord Yahweh will wipe away the tears from every cheek; he will take away his people’s shame everywhere on earth, for Yahweh has said so.

⁹ That day, it will be said: See, this is our God in whom we hoped for salvation; Yahweh is the one in whom we hoped. We exult and we rejoice that he has saved us;

¹⁰ for the hand of Yahweh rests on this mountain. Moab is trodden down where he stands as straw is trodden in the dung pit;

¹¹ and there he stretches out his hands like a swimmer stretching out his hands to swim. But Yahweh curbs his pride and whatever his hands attempt.

¹² Your arrogant, lofty walls he destroys, he overthrows, he flings them in the dust.