Isaiah 32:9-14 - Compare All Versions

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You women who are so complacent, rise up and listen to me; you daughters who feel secure, hear what I have to say! In little more than a year you who feel secure will tremble; the grape harvest will fail, and the harvest of fruit will not come. 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 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

Rise up, you women who are at ease, hear my voice; you complacent daughters, give ear to my speech. In little more than a year you will shudder, you complacent women; for the grape harvest fails, the fruit harvest will not come. 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, 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

Listen, you women who lie around in ease. Listen to me, you who are so smug. In a short time—just a little more than a year— you careless ones will suddenly begin to care. For your fruit crops will fail, and the harvest will never take place. 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. 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

Stand up, you complacent women;  listen to me. Pay attention to what I say, you overconfident daughters. In a little more than a year you overconfident ones will shudder, for the grapes will fail and the harvest will not come. 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,  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

Rise up, ye women that are at ease; hear my voice, ye careless daughters; give ear unto my speech. Many days and years shall ye be troubled, ye careless women: for the vintage shall fail, the gathering shall not come. 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

Rise up, you women who are at ease, Hear my voice; You complacent daughters, Give ear to my speech. In a year and some days You will be troubled, you complacent women; For the vintage will fail, The gathering will not come. 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. 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.

¶Rise up, you women who are at ease, And hear my voice; Listen to my word, You complacent daughters. Within a year and a few days You will be troubled, you complacent daughters; For the vintage is ended, And the fruit gathering will not come. 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, 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

¶Rise up, you women who are carefree, And hear my voice, You confident and unsuspecting daughters! Listen to what I am saying. In little more than a year You will tremble [with anxiety], you unsuspecting and complacent women; For the vintage has ended, And the harvest will not come. 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, 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

You complacent women, get up and listen to me! You carefree daughters, pay attention to what I say! In a year’s time you carefree ones will shake with fear, for the grape harvest will fail, and the fruit harvest will not arrive. 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! 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.