Awake, ye drunkards, and weep, and howl, all ye drinkers of wine, - over the new wine, because it hath been cut off from your mouth.

Turn pale, ye husbandmen, howl, ye vinedressers, over the wheat, and over the barley, - for perished is the harvest of the field.

Gird yourselves and beat the breast - ye priests, howl, ye attendants of the altar, go in and wrap yourselves for the night in sackcloth, ye attendants on my God, - for, withholden from the house of your God, are the meal-offering and the drink- offering.

How do the beasts groan! Perplexed are the herds of oxen, because there is no pasture for them, - even, the flocks of sheep, are destroyed!