⁹ Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice;
    you complacent daughters, listen to my speech.
¹⁰ In little more than a year
    you will shudder, you complacent ones;
for the vintage will fail,
    the fruit harvest will not come.
¹¹ Tremble, you women who are at ease,
    shudder, you complacent ones;
strip, and make yourselves bare,
    and put sackcloth on your loins.
¹² Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields,
    for the fruitful vine,
¹³ for the soil of my people
    growing up in thorns and briers;
yes, for all the joyous houses
    in the jubilant city.
¹⁴ For the palace will be forsaken,
    the populous city deserted;
the hill and the watchtower
    will become dens forever,
the joy of wild asses,
    a pasture for flocks;
¹⁵ until a spirit from on high is poured out on us,
    and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field,
    and the fruitful field is deemed a forest.

¹⁶ Then justice will dwell in the wilderness,
    and righteousness abide in the fruitful field.