Isaiah 24:7-11 - Compare All Versions

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The new wine dries up and the vine withers; all the merrymakers groan. The joyful timbrels are stilled, the noise of the revelers has stopped, the joyful harp is silent. No longer do they drink wine with a song; the beer is bitter to its drinkers. The ruined city lies desolate; the entrance to every house is barred. In the streets they cry out for wine; all joy turns to gloom, all joyful sounds are banished from the earth.

The wine mourns, the vine languishes, all the merry-hearted sigh. The mirth of the tambourines is stilled, the noise of the jubilant has ceased, the mirth of the lyre is stilled. No more do they drink wine with singing; strong drink is bitter to those who drink it. The wasted city is broken down; every house is shut up so that none can enter. There is an outcry in the streets for lack of wine; all joy has grown dark; the gladness of the earth is banished.

The grapevines waste away, and there is no new wine. All the merrymakers sigh and mourn. The cheerful sound of tambourines is stilled; the happy cries of celebration are heard no more. The melodious chords of the harp are silent. Gone are the joys of wine and song; alcoholic drink turns bitter in the mouth. The city writhes in chaos; every home is locked to keep out intruders. Mobs gather in the streets, crying out for wine. Joy has turned to gloom. Gladness has been banished from the land.

The new wine mourns;  the vine withers. All the carousers now groan. The joyful tambourines  have ceased. The noise of the jubilant has stopped. The joyful lyre has ceased. They no longer sing and drink wine; beer is bitter to those who drink it. The city of chaos is shattered;  every house is closed to entry.  In the streets they cry  for wine. All joy grows dark; earth’s rejoicing goes into exile.

The new wine mourneth, the vine languisheth, all the merryhearted do sigh. The mirth of tabrets ceaseth, the noise of them that rejoice endeth, the joy of the harp ceaseth. They shall not drink wine with a song; strong drink shall be bitter to them that drink it. The city of confusion is broken down: every house is shut up, that no man may come in. There is a crying for wine in the streets; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone.

The new wine fails, the vine languishes, All the merry-hearted sigh. The mirth of the tambourine ceases, The noise of the jubilant ends, The joy of the harp ceases. They shall not drink wine with a song; Strong drink is bitter to those who drink it. The city of confusion is broken down; Every house is shut up, so that none may go in. There is a cry for wine in the streets, All joy is darkened, The mirth of the land is gone.

Earth is polluted by its very own people, who have broken its laws, Disrupted its order, violated the sacred and eternal covenant. Therefore a curse, like a cancer, ravages the earth. Its people pay the price of their sacrilege. They dwindle away, dying out one by one. No more wine, no more vineyards, no more songs or singers. The laughter of castanets is gone, the shouts of celebrants, gone, the laughter of fiddles, gone. No more parties with toasts of champagne. Serious drinkers gag on their drinks. The chaotic cities are unlivable. Anarchy reigns. Every house is boarded up, condemned. People riot in the streets for wine, but the good times are gone forever— no more joy for this old world. The city is dead and deserted, bulldozed into piles of rubble. That’s the way it will be on this earth. This is the fate of all nations: An olive tree shaken clean of its olives, a grapevine picked clean of its grapes.

¶The new wine mourns, The vine decays, All the joyful-hearted sigh. The joy of tambourines ceases, The noise of revelers stops, The joy of the harp ceases. They do not drink wine with song; Intoxicating drink is bitter to those who drink it. The city of chaos is broken down; Every house is shut up so that no one may enter. There is an outcry in the streets concerning the wine; All joy turns to gloom. The joy of the earth is banished.

¶The new wine mourns, The vine decays; All the merry-hearted sigh and groan. The mirth of the timbrels (tambourines) ceases, The noise of those who rejoice ends, The joy of the harp ceases. They do not drink wine with a song; Strong drink is bitter to those who drink it. The city of chaos is broken down; Every house is shut up so that no one may enter. There is an outcry in the streets concerning the wine; All jubilation is darkened, The joy of the earth is banished.

The new wine dries up, the vines shrivel up, all those who like to celebrate groan. The happy sound of the tambourines stops, the revelry of those who celebrate comes to a halt, the happy sound of the harp ceases. They no longer sing and drink wine; the beer tastes bitter to those who drink it. The ruined town is shattered; all of the houses are shut up tight. They howl in the streets because of what happened to the wine; all joy turns to sorrow; celebrations disappear from the earth.