“‘Your mother was like a vine in your vineyard, planted by water. It was fruitful and full of branches because it was well-watered.

But it was plucked up in anger; it was thrown down to the ground. The east wind dried up its fruit; its strong branches broke off and withered – a fire consumed them.

A fire has gone out from its branch; it has consumed its shoot and its fruit. No strong branch was left in it, nor a scepter to rule.’ This is a lament song, and has become a lament song.”

“‘Say to them: This is what the sovereign Lord says: “‘Will it prosper? Will he not rip out its roots and cause its fruit to rot and wither? All its foliage will wither. No strong arm or large army will be needed to pull it out by its roots.