He hath laid my vine waste, and barked my fig-tree: he hath made it clean bare, and cast it away; its branches are made white.

Be ye ashamed, O ye husbandmen; howl, O ye vine-dressers, for the wheat and for the barley; because the harvest of the field hath perished.

The vine is dried up, and the fig-tree languisheth; the pomegranate-tree, the palm-tree also, and the apple-tree, even all the trees of the field, are withered: because joy is withered away from the sons of men.

Be not afraid, ye beasts of the field: for the pastures of the wilderness do spring, for the tree beareth its fruit, the fig-tree and the vine do yield their strength.