1 Let me sing a song for my love, about his vineyard. My love owned a vineyard on a productive hill. 2 He dug it over, cleared the ground of stones, and planted it with the very best vines. In the middle of it he built a watchtower, and he also cut out a winepress from the rock. Then he waited for a good harvest of grapes, but it only produced wild, sour grapes.
3 "Now, you people who live in Jerusalem and Judah, please judge between me and my vineyard. 4 What more could I have done for my vineyard than I’ve already done? When I looked for sweet grapes, why did it only produce sour ones?
5 So let me tell you what I’m going to do to my vineyard. I’ll remove its hedge, and it will be destroyed. I’ll tear down its wall, and it will be trampled underfoot. 6 I’ll turn it into a wasteland. It won’t be pruned or weeded—it will be overgrown with brambles and thorns. I’ll order the clouds not to rain on it."
7 Israel is the vineyard of the Lord Almighty, and the people of Judah are the plants in his garden that made him happy. Yet while he hoped for justice, he only saw injustice; he hoped people would live right, but he only heard the cries of those who were suffering.