In the day that you plant it you carefully fence it in, And in the morning you bring your seed to blossom; Yet [promising as it is] the harvest will be a heap [of ruins that passes away] In the day of sickness and incurable pain.
And in the day of your planting you hedge it in, and in the morning you make your seed to blossom, yet [promising as it is] the harvest shall be a heap of ruins and flee away in the day of expected possession and of desperate sorrow and sickening, incurable pain.
in the day of thy planting wilt thou make [them] to grow, and on the morrow wilt thou make thy seed to flourish; [but] the harvest will flee in the day of taking possession, and the sorrow will be incurable.
You will plant your grapevines one day and try to make them grow, and the next day they will blossom. But at harvest time, you will go to gather the fruit from the plants, and you will see that everything is dead. A sickness will kill all the plants.
You plant your grapevines one day and try to make them grow, and ·the next day [in the morning] you make them blossom. But ·at harvest time everything will be dead [L the harvest will be a heap/disaster]; ·a sickness will kill all the plants [L in the day of disease and incurable pain].
And why? Because you have forgotten God-Your-Salvation, not remembered your Rock-of-Refuge. And so, even though you are very religious, planting all sorts of bushes and herbs and trees to honor and influence your fertility gods, And even though you make them grow so well, bursting with buds and sprouts and blossoms, Nothing will come of them. Instead of a harvest you’ll get nothing but grief and pain, pain, pain.
The day you begin cultivating, you do what you can to make it grow; the morning you begin planting, you do what you can to make it sprout. Yet the harvest will disappear in the day of disease and incurable pain.
The plants might start to grow on the day you set them out. The vines might begin to bud on the morning you plant them. But even if they do, there won’t be any harvest. Instead, there will be sickness and pain that won’t go away.
They may sprout on the day you set them out; yes, they may blossom on the very morning you plant them, but you will never pick any grapes from them. Your only harvest will be a load of grief and unrelieved pain.
In the day thou shalt set out thy plants to make them grow, and in the boker shalt thou bring thy zera to blossom; but the katzir (harvest) shall be a heap in the day of sickness and of incurable pain.
They sprouted so quickly the day you set them out; they budded immediately the morning you planted them; But you will never gather any sweet grapes from them. What you reap will be illness and pain; that day will be filled with sadness.
In the day of thy planting (it) shall be a wild vine, and early thy seed shall flower; ripe corn is taken away in the day of heritage, and Israel shall make sorrow grievously. (On the day of thy planting, it shall become a wild vine, and thy seed shall flower the next day; but the ripe corn shall be taken away on the day of harvest, and Israel shall grieve, and shall have sorrow.)
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