1 Let me sing for my Beloved
a love song about his vineyard:
My Beloved had a vineyard
on the fertile brow of a hill.
2 He cultivated it, clearing it of stones,
and planted it with choice vines.
He built a watchtower in its midst
and hewed for it a winepress as well.
Then he expected it to yield grapes,
but it produced wild grapes.
3 Now, O inhabitants of Jerusalem and you men of Judea,
please judge between me and my vineyard!
4 What more could have been done
for my vineyard than I have done for it?
When I expected it to yield grapes,
why did it produce wild grapes?
5 Let me now inform you
what I will do to my vineyard:
I will have its hedge removed
and let it be burned;
I will have its wall broken through
and let it be trampled.
6 I will make it a desolation:
it shall neither be pruned nor hoed,
but briars and thorns shall overgrow it.
Moreover, I will forbid the rainclouds to rain on it.
7 The vineyard of Jehovah of Hosts is the house of Israel
and the people of Judah his cherished grove.
He expected justice,
but there was injustice;
he expected righteousness,
but there was an outcry.