¹¹ Your pride has been sent down to the place of the dead.
    The music from your harps goes with it.
Flies are spread out like your bed beneath you,
    and worms cover your body like a blanket.
¹² King of Babylon, morning star, you have fallen from heaven,
    even though you were as bright as the rising sun!
In the past all the nations on earth bowed down before you,
    but now you have been cut down.
¹³ You told yourself,
    “I will go up to heaven.
I will put my throne
    above God’s stars.
I will sit on the mountain of the gods,
    on the slopes of the sacred mountain.