7 He has laid waste My vine,And ruined My fig tree;He has stripped it bare and thrown it away;Its branches are made white.
8 Lament like a virgin girded with sackclothFor the husband of her youth.
9 The grain offering and the drink offeringHave been cut off from the house of the Lord;The priests mourn, who minister to the Lord.
10 The field is wasted,The land mourns;For the grain is ruined,The new wine is dried up,The oil fails.
11 Be ashamed, you farmers,Wail, you vinedressers,For the wheat and the barley;Because the harvest of the field has perished.
12 The vine has dried up,And the fig tree has withered;The pomegranate tree,The palm tree also,And the apple tree—All the trees of the field are withered;Surely joy has withered away from the sons of men.
13 Gird yourselves and lament, you priests;Wail, you who minister before the altar;Come, lie all night in sackcloth,You who minister to my God;For the grain offering and the drink offeringAre withheld from the house of your God.