³ Lest I strip her naked, and set her as in the day that she was born, and make her as a wilderness, and set her like a dry land, and kill her with thirst.

²⁰ And your strength shall be spent in vain: for your land shall not yield her increase, neither shall the trees of the land yield their fruits.

¹¹ There is a crying in the streets because of the wine. All joy is darkened. The mirth of the land is gone.