11 Tremble, you women who are at ease;Be troubled, you complacent ones;Strip yourselves, make yourselves bare,And gird sackcloth on your waists.
12 People shall mourn upon their breastsFor the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine.
13 On the land of my people will come up thorns and briers,Yes, on all the happy homes in the joyous city;
14 Because the palaces will be forsaken,The bustling city will be deserted.The forts and towers will become lairs forever,A joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks—
15 Until the Spirit is poured upon us from on high,And the wilderness becomes a fruitful field,And the fruitful field is counted as a forest.
16 Then justice will dwell in the wilderness,And righteousness remain in the fruitful field.
17 The work of righteousness will be peace,And the effect of righteousness, quietness and assurance forever.