Doom to those who get up early
and start drinking booze before breakfast,
Who stay up all hours of the night
drinking themselves into a stupor.
They make sure their banquets are well-furnished
with harps and flutes and plenty of wine,
But they’ll have nothing to do with the work of GOD,
pay no mind to what he is doing.
Therefore my people will end up in exile
because they don’t know the score.
Their “honored men” will starve to death
and the common people die of thirst.
Sheol developed a huge appetite,
swallowing people nonstop!
Big people and little people alike
down that gullet, to say nothing of all the drunks.
The down-and-out on a par
with the high-and-mighty,
Windbag boasters crumpled,
flaccid as a punctured bladder.
But by working justice,
GOD-of-the-Angel-Armies will be a mountain.
By working righteousness,
Holy God will show what “holy” is.
And lambs will graze
as if they owned the place,
Kids and calves
right at home in the ruins.