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Tremble, ye women that are at ease; be troubled, ye careless ones: strip you, and make you bare, and gird sackcloth upon your loins.
They shall lament for the teats, for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine.
Upon the land of my people shall come up thorns and briers; yea, upon all the houses of joy in the joyous city:
Because the palaces shall be forsaken; the multitude of the city shall be left; the forts and towers shall be for dens for ever, a joy of wild asses, a pasture of flocks;
Until the spirit be poured upon us from on high, and the wilderness be a fruitful field, and the fruitful field be counted for a forest.
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Tremble, you complacent women; shudder, you daughters who feel secure! Strip off your clothes, put sackcloth around your waists.
Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vines
and for the land of my people, a land overgrown with thorns and briers-- yes, mourn for all houses of merriment and for this city of revelry.
The fortress will be abandoned, the noisy city deserted; citadel and watchtower will become a wasteland forever, the delight of donkeys, a pasture for flocks,
till the Spirit is poured upon us from on high, and the desert becomes a fertile field, and the fertile field seems like a forest.
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