At that time it is said of this people, And of Jerusalem: `A dry wind of high places in the wilderness,' The way of the daughter of My people, (Not for winnowing, nor for cleansing,)
Thou winnowest them, and a wind lifteth them up, And a whirlwind scattereth them, And thou -- thou rejoicest in Jehovah, In the Holy One of Israel dost boast thyself.
And we are as unclean -- all of us, And as a garment passing away, all our righteous acts; And we fade as a leaf -- all of us. And our iniquities as wind do take us away.
And thou hast said unto them this word: Tears come down mine eyes night and day, And they do not cease, For, `with' a great breach, Broken hath been the virgin daughter of my people, A very grievous stroke.
Lo, the voice of a cry of the daughter of my people from a land afar off, Is Jehovah not in Zion? is her king not in her? Wherefore have they provoked Me with their graven images, With the vanities of a foreigner?
Consumed by tears have been my eyes, Troubled have been my bowels, Poured out to the earth hath been my liver, For the breach of the daughter of my people; In infant and suckling being feeble, In the broad places of the city,
Even dragons have drawn out the breast, They have suckled their young ones, The daughter of my people is become cruel, Like the ostriches in a wilderness.
And greater is the iniquity of the daughter of my people, Than the sin of Sodom, That was overturned as `in' a moment, And no hands were stayed on her.
And lo, the planted thing -- doth it prosper? When come against it doth the east wind, Doth it not utterly wither? On the furrows of its springing it withereth.'
And it is plucked up in fury, To the earth it hath been cast, And the east wind hath dried up its fruit, Broken and withered hath been the rod of its strength, Fire hath consumed it.
Though he among brethren produceth fruit, Come in doth an east wind, a wind of Jehovah, From a wilderness it is coming up, And it drieth up his fountain, And become dry doth his spring, It -- it spoileth a treasure -- every desirable vessel.
Therefore they are as a cloud of the morning, And as dew, rising early, going away, As chaff tossed about out of a floor, And as smoke out of a window.
whose fan `is' in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his floor, and will gather his wheat to the storehouse, but the chaff he will burn with fire unquenchable.'
whose winnowing shovel `is' in his hand, and he will thoroughly cleanse his floor, and will gather the wheat to his storehouse, and the chaff he will burn with fire unquenchable.'