From that time `one' hath come to a heap of twenty, And it hath been ten, He hath come unto the wine-fat to draw out fifty purahs, And it hath been twenty.
And removed hath been joy and gladness From the fruitful field, Even from the land of Moab, And wine from wine-presses I have caused to cease, Shouting doth not proceed, The shouting `is' no shouting!
Ye have sown much, and brought in little, To eat, and not to satiety, To drink, and not to drunkenness, To clothe, and none hath heat, And he who is hiring himself out, Is hiring himself for a bag pierced through.
I have smitten you with blasting, And with mildew, and with hail -- All the work of your hands, And there is none of you with Me, An affirmation of Jehovah.
If ye hearken not, and if ye lay `it' not to heart, To give honour to My name, said Jehovah of Hosts, I have sent against you the curse, And I have cursed your blessings, Yea, I have also cursed it, Because ye are not laying `it' to heart.