Isaiah 32:12-14 - Compare All Versions

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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

Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine, for the soil of my people growing up in thorns and briers, yes, for all the joyous houses in the exultant city. For the palace is forsaken, the populous city deserted; the hill and the watchtower will become dens forever, a joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks

Beat your breasts in sorrow for your bountiful farms and your fruitful grapevines. For your land will be overgrown with thorns and briers. Your joyful homes and happy towns will be gone. The palace and the city will be deserted, and busy towns will be empty. Wild donkeys will frolic and flocks will graze in the empty forts and watchtowers

Beat your breasts in mourning  for the delightful fields and the fruitful vines,  for the ground of my people growing thorns and briers,  indeed, for every joyous house in the jubilant city. For the palace will be deserted, the busy city abandoned. The hill and the watchtower will become barren places forever, the joy of wild donkeys, and a pasture for flocks

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

People shall mourn upon their breasts For the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine. On the land of my people will come up thorns and briers, Yes, on all the happy homes in the joyous city; Because the palaces will be forsaken, The bustling city will be deserted. The forts and towers will become lairs forever, A joy of wild donkeys, a pasture of flocks

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.

Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine, For the land of my people in which thorns and briars will come up; Indeed, for all the joyful houses and for the jubilant city. For the palace has been neglected, the populated city abandoned. Hill and watch-tower have become caves forever, A delight for wild donkeys, a pasture for flocks

Beat your breasts [in mourning] for the beautiful fields, for the fruitful vine, For the land of my people growing over with thorns and briars— Yes, [mourn] for all the houses of joy in the joyous city. For the palace has been abandoned, the populated city deserted; The hill [of the city] and the watchtower have become caves [for wild animals] forever, A delight for wild donkeys, a pasture for flocks

Mourn over the field, over the delightful fields and the fruitful vine! Mourn over the land of my people, which is overgrown with thorns and briers, and over all the once-happy houses in the city filled with revelry. For the fortress is neglected; the once-crowded city is abandoned. Hill and watchtower are permanently uninhabited. Wild donkeys love to go there, and flocks graze there.