¹² The vine has dried up, and the fig tree withered; the pomegranate tree, the palm tree also, and the apple tree, Even all of the trees of the field are withered; For joy has withered away from the sons of men.

¹¹ There is a crying in the streets because of the wine; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone.

¹⁰ Gladness is taken away, and joy out of the fruitful field; and in the vineyards there shall be no singing, neither joyful noise: nobody shall tread out wine in the presses; I have made the [vintage] shout to cease.

¹⁰ The field is laid waste. The land mourns, for the grain is destroyed, The new wine has dried up, And the oil languishes.

³ As the apple tree among the trees of the wood, So is my beloved among the sons. I sat down under his shadow with great delight, His fruit was sweet to my taste.

¹⁹ Is the seed yet in the barn? Yes, the vine, the fig tree, the pomegranate, and the olive tree haven't brought forth. From this day will I bless you.'"

¹⁷ For though the fig tree doesn't flourish, Nor fruit be in the vines; The labor of the olive fails, The fields yield no food; The flocks are cut off from the fold, And there is no herd in the stalls:

¹⁸ Yet I will rejoice in Yahweh. I will be joyful in the God of my salvation!

¹⁶ Isn't the food cut off before our eyes; Joy and gladness from the house of our God?

¹ Don't rejoice, Israel, to jubilation like the nations; For you were unfaithful to your God. You love the wages of a prostitute at every grain threshing floor.

² The threshing floor and the winepress won't feed them, And the new wine will fail her.

³³ Gladness and joy is taken away from the fruitful field and from the land of Moab; and I have caused wine to cease from the wine presses: none shall tread with shouting; the shouting shall be no shouting.

³ The sound of a cry from Horonaim, desolation and great destruction!

³ You have multiplied the nation, you have increased their joy: they joy before you according to the joy in harvest, as men rejoice when they divide the spoil.

⁷ This, your stature, is like a palm tree, Your breasts like its fruit.

⁸ I said, "I will climb up into the palm tree. I will take hold of its fruit." Let your breasts be like clusters of the vine, The smell of your breath like apples, Beloved

⁹ Your mouth like the best wine, That goes down smoothly for my beloved, Gliding through the lips of those who are asleep.

¹³ Your shoots are an orchard of pomegranates, with precious fruits: Henna with spikenard plants,

¹² The righteous shall flourish like the palm tree. He will grow like a cedar in Lebanon.

⁷ You have put gladness in my heart, More than when their grain and their new wine are increased.

²³ They came to the valley of Eshcol, and cut down from there a branch with one cluster of grapes, and they bore it on a staff between two; [they brought] also of the pomegranates, and of the figs.