11 Tremble, you women who are at ease;
Be troubled, you complacent ones;
Strip yourselves, make yourselves bare,
And gird sackcloth on your waists.

12 People shall mourn upon their breasts
For the pleasant fields, for the fruitful vine.
13 (A)On the land of my people will come up thorns and briers,
Yes, on all the happy homes in (B)the joyous city;

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