Joel 1:7-10

The Message

^5-7 Sober up, you drunks!
    Get in touch with reality—and weep!
Your supply of booze is cut off.
    You’re on the wagon, like it or not.
My country’s being invaded
    by an army invincible, past numbering,
Teeth like those of a lion,
    fangs like those of a tiger.
It has ruined my vineyards,
    stripped my orchards,
And clear-cut the country.
    The landscape’s a moonscape.

^8-10 Weep like a young virgin dressed in black,
    mourning the loss of her fiancé.
Without grain and grapes,
    worship has been brought to a standstill
    in the Sanctuary of God.
The priests are at a loss.
    God’s ministers don’t know what to do.
The fields are sterile.
    The very ground grieves.
The wheat fields are lifeless,
    vineyards dried up, olive oil gone.