He has laid my vine waste, and barked my fig tree. He has made it clean bare, and cast it away. The branches of it are made white.

The vine is withered, and the fig tree languishes. The pomegranate tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, even all the trees of the field are withered. For joy has withered away from the sons of men.

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

Yea, and what are ye to me, O Tyre, and Sidon, and all the regions of Philistia? Will ye render me a recompense? And if ye recompense me, I will return your recompense swiftly and speedily upon your own head.

Proclaim ye this among the nations: Prepare war. Stir up the mighty men. Let all the men of war draw near. Let them come up.