10 Your mother was a vine like you,growing near a stream.There was plenty of water,so she was filled with branchesand with lots of fruit.
11 Her strong branchesbecame symbols of authority,and she was tallerthan all other trees—everyone could see how strongand healthy she was.
12 But in anger, I pulled her upby the rootsand threw her to the ground,where the scorching desert winddried out her fruit.Her strong branches wiltedand burned up.
13 Then she was plantedin a hot, dry desert,
14 where her stem caught fire,and flames burnedher branches and fruit.Not one strong branch is left;she is stripped bare.This funeral song must be sung with sorrow.