All the host of heaven will be dissolved,
And the skies will be rolled up like a scroll;
All their hosts [the stars and the planets] will also wither away
As a leaf withers from the vine,
And as a fig withers from the fig tree.

Do not listen to Hezekiah,’ for this is what the king of Assyria says, ‘Make peace with me and come out to me, and each one of you will eat from his own vine and each from his own fig tree and each [one of you] drink from the water of his own cistern,

For the fields of Heshbon have languished and withered, and the vines of Sibmah as well;
The lords of the nations have trampled down [Moab’s] choice vine branches,
Which reached as far as Jazer and wandered into the wilderness;
Its tendrils stretched out, they passed over [the shores of] the [Dead] Sea.

He cuts cedars for himself, and takes a cypress or an oak and lets it grow strong for himself among the trees of the forest. He plants a fir, and the rain nourishes it.

“Instead of the thorn bush the cypress tree will grow,
And instead of the nettle the myrtle tree will grow;
And it will be a memorial to the Lord,
For an everlasting sign [of His mercy] which will not be cut off.”

“Yet gleanings will be left in the land [of Israel] like the shaking of the olive tree,
Two or three olives on the topmost branch,
Four or five on the [outermost] branches of the fruitful tree,”
Declares the Lord, the God of Israel.

“I will put the cedar in the wilderness,
The acacia, the myrtle and the olive tree;
I will place the juniper in the desert
Together with the box tree and the cypress,

He dug it all around and cleared away its stones,
And planted it with the choicest vine (the people of Judah).
And He built a tower in the center of it;
And also hewed out a wine vat in it.
Then He expected it to produce [the choicest] grapes,
But it produced only worthless ones.

Because you [Judah] have forgotten the God of your salvation
And have not remembered the Rock of your Stronghold—
Therefore you plant lovely plants
And set the grounds with vine slips of a strange god,

The new wine mourns,
The vine decays;
All the merry-hearted sigh and groan.

Beat your breasts [in mourning] for the beautiful fields, for the fruitful vine,