7 It hath made my vine become a desolation, And my fig-tree become a chip, It hath made it thoroughly bare, and hath cast down, Made white have been its branches.
8 Wail, as a virgin girdeth with sackcloth, For the husband of her youth.
9 Cut off hath been present and libation from the house of Jehovah, Mourned have the priests, ministrants of Jehovah.
10 Spoiled is the field, mourned hath the ground, For spoiled is the corn, Dried up hath been new wine, languish doth oil.
11 Be ashamed, ye husbandmen, Howl, vine-dressers, for wheat and for barley, For perished hath the harvest of the field.
12 The vine hath been dried up, And the fig-tree doth languish, Pomegranate, also palm, and apple-tree, All trees of the field have withered, For dried up hath been joy from the sons of men.
13 Gird, and lament, ye priests, Howl, ye ministrants of the altar, Come in, lodge in sackcloth, ministrants of my God, For withheld from the house of your God hath been present and libation.