“If my land cries out against me, and its furrows weep together,
Behold, the wages of the workers who mowed your fields—which you kept back by fraud—are crying out against you. And the cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord of Hosts.
For a stone will cry out from a wall, and wooden beams will answer.
Pastures of the wilderness overflow and hills are robed with joy.
The heavens will expose his iniquity; the earth will rise up against him.
Some remove the boundary-stones; they steal flocks and pasture them.