Awake, you drunkards, and weep, and wail, all you drinkers of wine, because of the sweet wine, for it is cut off from your mouth.
For a nation has come up against my land, powerful and beyond number; its teeth are lions’ teeth, and it has the fangs of a lioness.
It has laid waste my vine and splintered my fig tree; it has stripped off their bark and thrown it down; their branches are made white.
Lament like a virgin wearing sackcloth for the bridegroom of her youth.
The grain offering and the drink offering are cut off from the house of the LORD. The priests mourn, the ministers of the LORD.
The fields are destroyed, the ground mourns, because the grain is destroyed, the wine dries up, the oil languishes.
Be ashamed, O tillers of the soil; wail, O vinedressers, for the wheat and the barley, because the harvest of the field has perished.