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.

For, a nation, hath come up over my land, bold, and without number, - his teeth, are the teeth of a lion, and, the fangs of a lioness, hath he!

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

A day of obscurity and deep gloom, a day of cloud, and thick darkness, as dusk, spread over the mountains, - a people, many and bold, like whom, hath not been from age-past times, and, after whom, shall not be again unto the years of generation after generation.

And rend your heart, and not your garments, turn therefore, unto Yahweh your God, - for, gracious and full of compassion, is he, slow to anger, and abundant in loving- kindness, and will grieve over calamity.

Thrust ye in the vintage knife, for, grown ripe, is the vintage, - Go in, tread down, for full is the winepress, flow over do the vats, for abundant is their wickedness.