Be ashamed, you farm workers, Wail, you vinedressers, For the wheat and the barley; Because the harvest of the field is destroyed.
The vine has dried up And the fig tree has withered; The pomegranate, the palm also, and the apple tree, All the trees of the field have dried up. Indeed, joy has dried up From the sons of mankind.
Put on sackcloth
And mourn, you priests; Wail, you ministers of the altar! Come, spend the night in sackcloth, You ministers of my God, For the grain offering and the drink offering Have been withheld from the house of your God.
Consecrate a fast, Proclaim a solemn assembly; Gather the elders And
all the inhabitants of the land To the house of the LORD your God, And cry out to the LORD.