Moff MIC Chapter 2

Woe to men who on their beds

some mischief plan,

and carry it out when morning comes,

because they can!--

coveting fields and seizing them,

coveting houses and snatching them,

crushing yeomen and their homes,

smallholders and their livings.

“Therefore,” the Eternal declares,

“I plan something, plan a fate

from which you cannot shake you free,

nor rid you of its crushing weight:

so evil is the time.

Then shall you be taunted,

as this dirge is chanted:

‘Undone! we are undone!

The soil of our folk is parcelled out,

past all restoring:

our captors are dividing up our fields.’ ”

“For talk like that you lose your share

in the community of the Eternal!

Stop it,” they cry,

“such harping is not prophecy;

no shameful fate can e’er o’ertake the house of Jacob.

Is the Eternal’s temper quick?

Is that how he would act?

Are not his words to Israel kind?”

The prophet for such folk

would be some empty fellow and a liar,

who promised to prophesy of wine and spirits!

You are the worst foes of my folk,

attacking peaceful men,

and plundering quiet passers-by,

evicting women from their happy homes,

branding their babes with slavery.

Away with you! begone!

this is no place for you!--depravity

shall ruin you beyond all remedy.