Though you were waste and desolate, a land of ruins, Now you shall be too narrow for your inhabitants, while those who swallowed you up will be far away.
How long must the land mourn, the grass of the whole countryside wither? Because of the wickedness of those who dwell in it beasts and birds disappear, for they say, “God does not care about our future.”
They did not ask, “Where is the Lord who brought us up from the land of Egypt, Who led us through the wilderness, through a land of wastes and ravines, A land of drought and darkness, a land which no one crosses, where no one dwells?”
The land is filled with adulterers; because of the curse the land mourns, the pastures of the wilderness are withered. Theirs is an evil course, theirs is unjust power.
Cut off your hair and throw it away! on the heights raise a lament; The Lord has indeed rejected and cast off the generation that draws down his wrath.
For these things I weep—My eyes! My eyes! They stream with tears! How far from me is anyone to comfort, anyone to restore my life. My children are desolate; the enemy has prevailed.”
My eyes are spent with tears, my stomach churns; My bile is poured out on the ground at the brokenness of the daughter of my people, As children and infants collapse in the streets of the town.
I will make the land a desolate waste, so that its proud strength will come to an end, and the mountains of Israel shall be so desolate that no one will cross them.
Wherever you live, cities shall be ruined and high places laid waste, in order that your altars be laid waste and devastated, your idols broken and smashed, your incense altars hacked to pieces, and whatever you have made wiped out.
Therefore the land dries up, and everything that dwells in it languishes: The beasts of the field, the birds of the air, and even the fish of the sea perish.
Gird yourselves and lament, you priests! wail, ministers of the altar! Come, spend the night in sackcloth, ministers of my God! For the grain offering and the libation are withheld from the house of your God.
Therefore, thus says the Lord, the God of hosts, the Lord: In every square there shall be lamentation, and in every street they shall cry, “Oh, no!” They shall summon the farmers to wail and the professional mourners to lament.
On that day you shall be mocked, and there will be bitter lament: “Our ruin is complete, our fields are divided among our captors, The fields of my people are measured out, and no one can get them back!”