The vineyard yields wild grapes

1Let me sing, please, for my beloved a song of my beloved concerning his vineyard: my beloved had a vineyard on a fertile hill.

2He dug it up, cleared it of stones, and planted it with choice vines; he built a tower in its midst, and also hewed out a winepress in it. Then he expected it to produce grapes, but it produced wild grapes.

3And now, inhabitant of Jerusalem and man of Judah, judge, please, between me and my vineyard.

4What more was there to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? Why, when I expected it to produce grapes, did it produce wild grapes?

5And now, please let me tell you what I will do to my vineyard: I will remove its hedge, and it will be burned; I will break down its wall, and it will be trampled down.

6And I will make it a wasteland; it will not be pruned or hoed, and briers and thorns will grow up; and I will command the clouds not to rain on it.

7For the vineyard of Yahweh of Armies is the house of Israel, and the men of Judah are the planting of his delight. He looked for justice, but behold, bloodshed; for righteousness, but behold, an outcry.