Isaiah 32:11-12 - Compare All Versions

Share

Tremble, you complacent women; shudder, you daughters who feel secure! Strip off your fine clothes and wrap yourselves in rags. Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vines

Tremble, you women who are at ease, shudder, you complacent ones; strip, and make yourselves bare, and tie sackcloth around your waist. Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine

Tremble, you women of ease; throw off your complacency. Strip off your pretty clothes, and put on burlap to show your grief. Beat your breasts in sorrow for your bountiful farms and your fruitful grapevines.

Shudder, you complacent ones; tremble, you overconfident ones! Strip yourselves bare  and put sackcloth around your waists. Beat your breasts in mourning  for the delightful fields and the fruitful vines

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.

Tremble, you women who are at ease; Be troubled, you complacent ones; Strip yourselves, make yourselves bare, And gird sackcloth on your waists. People shall mourn upon their breasts For the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine.

Take your stand, idle women! Listen to me! Indulgent, idle women, listen closely to what I have to say. In just a little over a year from now, you’ll be shaken out of your lazy lives. The grape harvest will fail, and there’ll be no fruit on the trees. Oh tremble, you idle women. Get serious, you pampered dolls! Strip down and discard your silk fineries. Put on funeral clothes. Shed honest tears for the lost harvest, the failed vintage. Weep for my people’s gardens and farms that grow nothing but thistles and thornbushes. Cry tears, real tears, for the happy homes no longer happy, the merry city no longer merry. The royal palace is deserted, the bustling city quiet as a morgue, The emptied parks and playgrounds taken over by wild animals, delighted with their new home.

Tremble, you women who are at ease; Be troubled, you complacent daughters; Strip, undress, and put sackcloth on your waist, Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine

Tremble, you women who are carefree; Tremble with fear, you complacent ones! Strip, undress and wear sackcloth on your waist [in grief], Beat your breasts [in mourning] for the beautiful fields, for the fruitful vine

Tremble, you complacent ones! Shake with fear, you carefree ones! Strip off your clothes and expose yourselves – put sackcloth on your waist! Mourn over the field, over the delightful fields and the fruitful vine!