Rise up, you women who are at ease,
And hear my voice;
Give ear to my word,
You complacent daughters.

Within a year and a few days
You will be troubled, O complacent daughters;
For the vintage is ended,
And the fruit gathering will not come.

Tremble, you women who are at ease;
Be troubled, you complacent daughters;
Strip, undress and put sackcloth on your waist,

You were complacent in your evil deeds; you thought, 'No one sees me.' Your self-professed wisdom and knowledge lead you astray, when you say, 'I am unique! No one can compare to me!'