"Cutoffthe sowerfrom BabylonAnd the one who wieldsthe sickleat the timeof harvest;From beforethe swordof the oppressorThey will eachturnbackto his own peopleAnd they will eachfleeto his own land.
And it will be that like a huntedgazelle,Or like sheepwith noneto gather[them], They will eachturnto his own people,And eachonefleeto his own land.
"He has leftHis hidingplacelike the lion;For their landhas becomea horrorBecauseof the fiercenessof the oppressing[sword] And becauseof His fierceanger."
"They have repeatedlystumbled;Indeed,they have fallenoneagainstanother.Then they said,'Getup! And let us gobackTo our own peopleand our nativelandAway from the swordof the oppressor.'
And with you I shatterthe shepherdand his flock,And with you I shatterthe farmerand his team,And with you I shattergovernorsand prefects.
We applied healingto Babylon,but she was not healed;Forsakeher and let us eachgoto his own country,For her judgmenthas reachedto heavenAnd towersup to the very skies.
Be ashamed,O farmers,Wail,O vinedressers,For the wheatand the barley;Becausethe harvestof the fieldis destroyed.
Thereforethussaysthe LORDGodof hosts,the Lord,"There is wailingin allthe plazas,And in allthe streetsthey say,'Alas!Alas!'They also callthe farmerto mourningAnd professionalmournersto lamentation.
