Isaiah 18:1-5

Woe, land of whirring wings Which lies beyond the rivers of Cush,

Which sends messengers by the sea, Even in papyrus vessels on the surface of the waters. Go, swift messengers, to a nation tall and smooth, To a people feared far and wide, A powerful and oppressive nation Whose land the rivers divide.

All you who inhabit the world, and live on earth, As soon as a flag is raised on the mountains, you will see it, And as soon as the trumpet is blown, you will hear it.

For this is what the Lord has told me: “I will quietly look from My dwelling place Like dazzling heat in the sunshine, Like a cloud of dew in the heat of harvest.”

For before the harvest, as soon as the bud blossoms And the flower becomes a ripening grape, He will cut off the shoots with pruning knives, And remove and tear away the spreading branches.