In the day of your planting, you hedge it in. In the morning, you make your seed blossom, but the harvest flees away in the day of grief and of desperate sorrow.
Cut off the sower from Bavel, and him who handles the sickle in the time of harvest: for fear of the oppressing sword they shall turn everyone to his people, and they shall flee everyone to his own land.
Who is the wise man, that may understand this? and [who is] he to whom the mouth of the LORD has spoken, that he may declare it? why is the land perished and burned up like a wilderness, so that none passes through?
Therefore thus says the LORD, the God Tzeva'ot, the Lord: *Wailing will be in all the broad ways; and they will say in all the streets, 'Alas! Alas!' and they will call the farmer to mourning, and those who are skillful in lamentation to wailing.