10. In a little more than a yearyour confidence will be shaken;For the vintage will fail,no fruit harvest will come in.
11. Tremble, you who are so complacent!Shudder, you who are so confident!Strip yourselves bare,with only a loincloth for cover.
12. Beat your breastsfor the pleasant fields,for the fruitful vine;
13. For the soil of my people,overgrown with thorns and briers;For all the joyful houses,the exultant city.
14. The castle will be forsaken,the noisy city deserted;Citadel and tower will become wasteland forever,the joy of wild donkeys, the pasture of flocks;
15. Until the spirit from on highis poured out on us.And the wilderness becomes a garden landand the garden land seems as common as forest.