YLT(i)
9 Women, easy ones, rise, hear my voice, Daughters, confident ones, give ear to my saying,
10 Days and a year ye are troubled, O confident ones, For consumed hath been harvest, The gathering cometh not.
11 Tremble ye women, ye easy ones, Be troubled, ye confident ones, Strip and make bare, with a girdle on the loins,
12 For breasts they are lamenting, For fields of desire, for the fruitful vine.
13 Over the ground of my people thorn—brier goeth up, Surely over all houses of joy of the exulting city,
14 Surely the palace hath been left, The multitude of the city forsaken, Fort and watch-tower hath been for dens unto the age, A joy of wild asses—a pasture of herds;