I weep for the pasture land in the hill country. It's so barren and scorched that no one travels there. No cattle can be found there, and birds and wild animals have all disappeared.
where her stem caught fire, and flames burnt her branches and fruit. Not one strong branch is left; she is stripped bare. This funeral song must be sung with sorrow.
Ezekiel, son of man, condemn the king of Egypt and tell him I am saying: You act like a lion roaming the earth; but you are nothing more than a crocodile in a river, churning up muddy water with your feet.
This is what the LORD has sworn: Noisy crying will be heard in every town and street. Even farmers will be told to mourn for the dead, together with those who are paid to mourn.
You made promises in the name of Ashimah, the goddess of Samaria. And you made vows in my name at the shrines of Dan and Beersheba. But you will fall and never get up.