^{5 Ref} My heart `is' toward Moab, Cry do her fugitives unto Zoar, a heifer of the third `year', For -- the ascent of Luhith -- With weeping he goeth up in it, For, in the way of Horonaim, A cry of destruction they wake up.

^{6 Ref} For, the waters of Nimrim are desolations, For, withered hath been the hay, Finished hath been the tender grass, A green thing there hath not been.

^{7 Ref} Therefore the abundance he made, and their store, Unto the brook of the willows they carry.

^{8 Ref} For gone round hath the cry the border of Moab, Unto Eglaim `is' its howling, And to Beer-Elim `is' its howling.