1 I will sing to my beloved the canticle of my paternal cousin, about his vineyard. A vineyard was made for my beloved, at the horn in the son of oil.
2 And he fenced it in, and he picked the stones out of it, and he planted it with the best vines, and he built a tower in the middle of it, and he set up a winepress within it. And he expected it to produce grapes, but it produced wild vines.
3 Now then, inhabitants of Jerusalem and men of Judah: judge between me and my vineyard.
4 What more should I have done for my vineyard that I did not do for it? Should I not have expected it to produce grapes, though it produced wild vines?
5 And now, I will reveal to you what I will do to my vineyard. I will take away its fence, and it will be plundered. I will pull down its wall, and it will be trampled.
6 And I will make it desolate. It will not be pruned, and it will not be dug. And briers and thorns will rise up. And I will command the clouds not to rain upon it.