1Let me sing, please, to my beloved a song of my beloved about his vineyard. My beloved had a vineyard on a horn, a son of oil.2He dug it about, cleared it of stones, and planted it with a vine. He built a tower in its midst and hewed a wine vat in it. He waited to produce grapes, but it produced sour grapes.3And now, inhabitant of Jerusalem and man of Judah, judge, please, between me and my vineyard.4What more is there still to do for my vineyard that I have not done in it? Why did I wait to produce grapes, yet it produced sour grapes?5And now I will make known to you what I am doing to my vineyard: removing its hedge so that it becomes burned, breaking through its wall so that it becomes trampled.6I will set it as waste; it will not be pruned and it will not be hoed, but thorn and thornbush will ascend. I will command the clouds not to rain rain upon it.7For the vineyard of the LORD of hosts is the house of Israel, and the man of Judah is his plantation of delight. He waited for justice, but behold, bloodshed; for righteousness, but behold, a cry.