If thieves came to you, if destroyers by night (how you have been cut off!), would they not have stolen until they had enough? If the grape-gatherers came to you, would they not leave gleanings?
Yet gleaning grapes shall be left in it, as the shaking of an olive tree, two or three ripe olives in the top of the uppermost branch, four or five in the fruit-tree branches of it, says Jehovah, the God of Hosts.
For so it is in the midst of the land among the people, it shall be like the shaking of an olive tree and as gleanings when the grape harvest is completed.
How alone sits the city that was full of people! She has become like a widow, once great among the nations, a noblewoman among the nations, but now has become a tribute-payer.
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.
This is the rejoicing city, dwelling confidently, who says in her heart, I am, and no other still is. How she has become a ruin, a resting-place for animals! Everyone who passes by her shall hiss; he shall wag his hand.