Woe is me! For I am like the gatherings of summer fruits, like the grape-gleanings of the vintage. There is no cluster to eat; my soul desires the first-ripe fruit.

For so it is in the midst of the land among the people, it shall be like the shaking of an olive tree and as gleanings when the grape harvest is completed.

If thieves came to you, if destroyers by night (how you have been cut off!), would they not have stolen until they had enough? If the grape-gatherers came to you, would they not leave gleanings?