And their inhabitants are feeble-handed, They were broken down, and are dried up. They have been the herb of the field, And the greenness of the tender grass, Grass of the roofs, And blasted corn, before it hath risen up.

Bread -corn is beaten small, For not for ever doth he sorely thresh it, Nor crushed it hath a wheel of his cart, Nor do his hoofs beat it small.

And it hath come to pass, As the gathering by the reaper of the standing corn, And his arm the ears reapeth, And it hath come to pass, As the gathering of the ears in the valley of Rephaim,

till my coming in, and I have taken you unto a land like your own land, a land of corn and wine, a land of bread and vineyards;

Sworn hath Jehovah by His right hand, Even by the arm of His strength: 'I give not thy corn any more as food for thine enemies, Nor do sons of a stranger drink thy new wine, For which thou hast laboured.

For breasts they are lamenting, For fields of desire, for the fruitful vine.

Because fields of Heshbon languish, The vine of Sibmah, Lords of nations did beat her choice vines, Unto Jazer they have come, They have wandered in a wilderness, Her plants have spread themselves, They have passed over a sea.