Even her children were dashed on every street
corner;
For her nobles they cast lots,
And all her great men were fastened with fetters.
Thou too shalt stagger,[305] shalt grow faint;
Thou too shalt seek help from[306] the foe!
All thy fortresses are fig-trees with figs early-ripe:
Be they shaken they fall on the mouth of the eater.
Lo, thy folk are but women in thy midst:[307]
To thy foes the gates of thy land fly open;