MSB(i)
9 Stand up, you complacent women; listen to me. Give ear to my word, you overconfident daughters.
10 In a little more than a year you will tremble, O secure ones. For the grape harvest will fail and the fruit harvest will not arrive.
11 Shudder, you ladies of leisure; tremble, you daughters of complacency. Strip yourselves bare and put sackcloth around your waists.
12 Beat your breasts for the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vines,
13 and for the land of my people, overgrown with thorns and briers—even for every house of merriment in this city of revelry.
14 For the palace will be forsaken, the busy city abandoned. The hill and the watchtower will become caves forever—the delight of wild donkeys and a pasture for flocks—