Let me sing for my loved one a love song for his vineyard. My loved one had a vineyard on a fertile hillside.
He dug it, cleared away its stones, planted it with excellent vines, built a tower inside it, and dug out a wine vat in it. He expected it to grow good grapes— but it grew rotten grapes.
So now, you who live in Jerusalem, you people of Judah, judge between me and my vineyard:
What more was there to do for my vineyard that I haven't done for it? When I expected it to grow good grapes, why did it grow rotten grapes?
Now let me tell you what I'm doing to my vineyard. I'm removing its hedge, so it will be destroyed. I'm breaking down its walls, so it will be trampled.
I'll turn it into a ruin; it won't be pruned or hoed, and thorns and thistles will grow up. I will command the clouds not to rain on it.
The vineyard of the LORD of heavenly forces is the house of Israel, and the people of Judah are the plantings in which God delighted. God expected justice, but there was bloodshed; righteousness, but there was a cry of distress!