The Song about the Vineyard

1 Let me sing a lovesong to my beloved about his vineyard: 

My beloved had a vineyard on a fertile hill. 

2  He dug it up, removed its stones, 

planted it with the choicest vines, 

built a watchtower in it, 

and made a winepress in it. 

Then he waited for it to produce good grapes, 

but it produced only sour, wild grapes. 

3  Now then, you inhabitants of Jerusalem and Judah, 

judge between me and my vineyard! 

4  What more could have been done for my vineyard 

than what I have already done for it? 

When I waited for it to produce good grapes, 

why did it produce only sour, wild grapes? 

5  Now then, let me tell you what I will do to my vineyard. 

I will tear away its hedge so that it can be devoured 

and tear down its wall so that it can be trampled. 

6  I will make it a wasteland. 

It will never be pruned or hoed. 

Thorns and weeds will grow in it, 

and I will command the clouds not to rain on it. 

7  The vineyard of the Lord of Armies is the nation of Israel, 

and the people of Judah are the garden of his delight. 

He hoped for justice but saw only slaughter, 

for righteousness but heard only cries of distress.