The vines have become dry, and the fig tree is dying. All the trees in the field— the pomegranate, the palm, and the apple—have withered. And happiness among the people has died.
There will be no joy and happiness in the orchard. I will end the happy singing and shouting in the vineyard. The grapes are ready to make wine, but they will all be ruined.
My lover, among other men, you are an apple tree among the wild trees in the forest! I enjoy sitting in my lover’s shadow; his fruit is so sweet to my taste.
Your seed for planting is still in the barn. And look at the vines, the fig trees, and the pomegranate and olive trees. They have not yet produced any fruit. But beginning today, I will bless you.’”
Joy and happiness are gone from the large vineyards of Moab. I stopped the flow of wine from the winepresses. There is no singing and dancing from people walking on the grapes to make wine. There are no shouts of joy.
God, you will make the nation grow, and you will make the people happy. They will rejoice in your presence as they do at harvest time. It will be like the joy when people take their share of things they have won in war.
Then the men went to Eshcol Valley. There they cut off a branch from a grapevine that had a bunch of grapes on it. They put that branch on a pole, and two men carried it between them. They also carried some pomegranates and figs.