The vine hath been dried up, And the fig-tree doth languish, Pomegranate, also palm, and apple-tree, All trees of the field have withered, For dried up hath been joy from the sons of men.

And the northern I put far off from you, And have driven him unto a land dry and desolate, With his face unto the eastern sea, And his rear unto the western sea, And come up hath his stink, And come up doth his stench, For he hath exerted himself to work.

Proclaim ye this among nations, Sanctify a war, stir up the mighty ones, Come nigh, come up, let all the men of war.