^{11 Ref} It sent out its branches to the sea, Its shoots to the River.

^{12 Ref} Why have you broken down its walls, So that all those who pass by the way pluck it?

^{13 Ref} The boar out of the wood ravages it. The wild animals of the field feed on it.

^{14 Ref} Turn again, we beg you, God of hosts. Look down from heaven, and see, and visit this vine,

^{15 Ref} The stock which your right hand planted, The branch that you made strong for yourself.

^{16 Ref} It's burned with fire. It's cut down. They perish at your rebuke.