For the vineyard of Jehovah of Hosts is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah His pleasant plant; and He looked for justice, but behold bloody iniquity; for righteousness, but behold a cry!
so says Jehovah of Hosts: Behold, I will send on them the sword, the famine, and the plague, and will make them like worthless figs which cannot be eaten from badness.
I found Israel like grapes in the wilderness. I saw your fathers as the first-fruit in the fig tree at her first time. But they went to Baal-peor and set themselves apart to a shameful thing; and they became abominable like that which they loved.
Woe is me! For I am like the gatherings of summer fruits, like the grape-gleanings of the vintage. There is no cluster to eat; my soul desires the first-ripe fruit.
You are the salt of the earth, but if the salt loses its savor, with what shall it be salted? It is no longer good for anything, but to be thrown out and to be trodden underfoot by men.