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⁹Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice; you complacent daughters, listen to my speech. ¹⁰In little more than a year you will shudder, you complacent ones; for the vintage will fail, the fruit harvest will not come. ¹¹Tremble, you women who are at ease, shudder, you complacent ones; strip, and make yourselves bare, and put sackcloth on your loins. ¹²Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine, ¹³for the soil of my people growing up in thorns and briers; yes, for all the joyous houses in the jubilant city. ¹⁴For the palace will be forsaken, the populous city deserted; the hill and the watchtower will become dens forever, the joy of wild asses, a pasture for flocks; ¹⁵until a spirit from on high is poured out on us, and the wilderness becomes a fruitful field, and the fruitful field is deemed a forest.