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¹ This is a prophecy about Mo'av:

The night ‘Ar is sacked, Mo'av is ruined.
The night Kir is sacked, Mo'av is ruined.
² He went up to the temple,
to Dibon and to the high places, to weep.
On N'vo and Meidva Mo'av is howling,
every head shaved bald, every beard cut off.
³ In the streets they wear sackcloth;
on their roofs and in their squares,
everyone howls and weeps profusely.
⁴ Heshbon and El‘aleh cry out,
they are heard as far as Yachatz.
Mo'av's best troops cry aloud,
as their courage faints away.
⁵ My heart cries out for Mo'av!
Its fugitives flee to Tzo‘ar,
a calf three years old.
They ascend the slope of Luchit,
weeping as they go;
on their way to Horonayim,
they utter heartrending cries.
⁶ The waters of Nimrim are desolate,
the grass is dried up, the new growth fails,
nothing green is left.
⁷ Therefore they carry away their wealth,
everything they have put aside,
across the Vadi of the Willows.
⁸ For the cry has circulated
throughout Mo'av's territory —
its howling has reached Eglayim,
its howling has reached Be'er-Elim.
⁹ For the waters of Dimon are full of blood,
yet I have worse in store for Dimon —
a lion for those who escape from Mo'av
and for those who remain in its land.