You women1 who are so complacent, rise up and listen2 to me; you daughters who feel secure,3 hear what I have to say!
In little more than a year4 you who feel secure will tremble; the grape harvest will fail,5 and the harvest of fruit will not come.
Tremble,6 you complacent women; shudder, you daughters who feel secure!7 Strip off your clothes,8 put sackcloth9 around your waists.
Beat your breasts10 for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vines1113
and for the land of my people, a land overgrown with thorns and briers12-- yes, mourn13 for all houses of merriment and for this city of revelry.1414
The fortress15 will be abandoned, the noisy city deserted;16 citadel and watchtower17 will become a wasteland forever, the delight of donkeys,18 a pasture for flocks,19