Now I will inform you what I am about to do to my vineyard: I will remove its hedge and turn it into pasture, I will break its wall and allow animals to graze there.

The whole earth rests and is quiet; they break into song.

I will break Assyria in my land, I will trample them underfoot on my hills. Their yoke will be removed from my people, the burden will be lifted from their shoulders.

When its branches get brittle, they break; women come and use them for kindling. For these people lack understanding, therefore the one who made them has no compassion on them; the one who formed them has no mercy on them.

So King Sennacherib of Assyria broke camp and went on his way. He went home and stayed in Nineveh.

A crushed reed he will not break, a dim wick he will not extinguish; he will faithfully make just decrees.

All their watchmen are blind, they are unaware. All of them are like mute dogs, unable to bark. They pant, lie down, and love to snooze.

No, this is the kind of fast I want. I want you to remove the sinful chains, to tear away the ropes of the burdensome yoke, to set free the oppressed, and to break every burdensome yoke.

These people continually and blatantly offend me as they sacrifice in their sacred orchards and burn incense on brick altars.

They sit among the tombs and keep watch all night long. They eat pork, and broth from unclean sacrificial meat is in their pans.