Bible Verses About Moabites: Desolation and grief

This is the burden against Moab: Ar in Moab is ruined, destroyed in a night! Kir in Moab is devastated, destroyed in a night!

Dibon goes up to its temple to weep at its high places. Moab wails over Nebo, as well as over Medeba. Every head is shaved, every beard is cut off.

In its streets they wear sackcloth; on the rooftops and in the public squares they all wail, falling down weeping.

Heshbon and Elealeh cry out; their voices are heard as far as Jahaz. Therefore the soldiers of Moab cry out; their souls tremble within.

My heart cries out over Moab; her fugitives flee as far as Zoar, as far as Eglath-shelishiyah. With weeping they ascend the slope of Luhith; they lament their destruction on the road to Horonaim.

The waters of Nimrim are dried up, and the grass is withered; the vegetation is gone, and the greenery is no more.

So they carry their wealth and belongings over the Brook of the Willows.

For their outcry echoes to the border of Moab. Their wailing reaches Eglaim; it is heard in Beer-elim.

The waters of Dimon are full of blood, but I will bring more upon Dimon— a lion upon the fugitives of Moab and upon the remnant of the land.

Like fluttering birds pushed out of the nest, so are the daughters of Moab at the fords of the Arnon:

“Give us counsel; render a decision. Shelter us at noonday with shade as dark as night. Hide the refugees; do not betray the one who flees.

Let my fugitives stay with you; be a refuge for Moab from the destroyer.” When the oppressor has gone, destruction has ceased, and the oppressors have vanished from the land,

in loving devotion a throne will be established in the tent of David. A judge seeking justice and hastening righteousness will sit on it in faithfulness.

We have heard of Moab’s pomposity, his exceeding pride and conceit, his overflowing arrogance. But his boasting is empty.

Therefore let Moab wail; let them wail together for Moab. Moan for the raisin cakes of Kir-hareseth, you who are utterly stricken.

For the fields of Heshbon have withered, along with the grapevines of Sibmah. The rulers of the nations have trampled its choicest vines, which had reached as far as Jazer and spread toward the desert. Their shoots had spread out and passed over the sea.

So I weep with Jazer for the vines of Sibmah; I drench Heshbon and Elealeh with my tears. Triumphant shouts have fallen silent over your summer fruit and your harvest.

Joy and gladness are removed from the orchard; no one sings or shouts in the vineyards. No one tramples the grapes in the winepresses; I have put an end to the cheering.

Therefore my heart laments for Moab like a harp, my inmost being for Kir-heres.