Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 5

Rhyming Isaiah, Chapter 5

For my beloved, my love-song, sing, I shall,
about his vineyard. On a fertile hill,
a vineyard was what my belovèd had.
He dug it out, away, the stones he cleared,
and with the choicest vines, he planted it.
He, a watchtower, built, within its midst,
and for a winepress, he hewed out a vat.
He thought that it would yield the choicest grapes,
but all it yielded: wild grapes was the crop.

Now, of Jerusalem, you citizens,
and Judah’s people, judge between me and
my vineyard. What more was there to do for
my vineyard that I hadn’t done before?
When I expected it to yield choice grapes,
why did it yield wild grapes? And now I say
to you what I will, to my vineyard, do?
The hedge around it, what I will remove,
devoured, the vineyard, it will be consumed.
It will be trampled down when I will break
its wall down. I will make of it a waste;
the vineyard, neither pruned nor hoed, shall be,
with thorns, it will be overgrown with weeds.
The clouds as well are what I will command,
no longer on it will they rain, so that.

For it, the vineyard of the LORD of hosts,
of Is’rael, as a metaphor, its house,
his pleasant planting, Judah’s people are;
what he expected? Justice. All he saw
was bloodshed; righteousness, but heard a cry!

Ah, you, who, house to house will join, and who
add fields adjacent, other fields, onto,
until for no one but you there is room,
and left to live alone, the life for you,
the countryside, inhabitants, those sole!
Within my hearing what the LORD of hosts
has uttered all these words as solemn oath:
For certain many houses will be desolate,
fine mansions left with no inhabitant.
Five acres of a vineyard only yields
a gallon, and from bushels, ten, of seed:
a single peck, the harvest from the field.

Woe to you who in early morning rise
to seek strong drink, or then, inflamed with wine,
will linger from the evening till the night,
whose feasts consist of harp and also lyre,
the tambourine and flute, as well, more wine,
but who do not regard the deeds of him,
the LORD, or see the work, that of his hands!
Therefore my people, to captivity
will go because they, knowledge, lack, of me.
Fro lack of food, to death, the nobles starve,
and all the multitudes, with thirst, are parched.

Therefore her appetite, Sheol’s, enlarged,
and she has opened her enormous jaws:
there ent’ring, nobles of Jerusalem,
her noisy throng of revelers descend.
Brought low and bowed down, everyone, mankind
and humbled also are the haughty’s eyes.
By justice, that is how the LORD of hosts
exalted, is, the Holy God will show
himself as holy by his righteousness.
As in their pasture, there, the lambs will graze,
the young goats feeding in that ruined place.

Woe to you who drag wickedness and sin
along, a tether or a rope, as with.
Who say, “Let the LORD make haste: let him speed,
his work, up, so it’s progress, we will see.
The Holy One of Is’rael, let his plan
soon be fulfilled so, it, we’ll understand!”
Ah, you who call good evil, evil, good,
who, light to dark, and darkness, turn to light,
Turn sweet to bitter, bitter, sweet, those who.
Woe to you who are wise in your own sight,
and, shrewd, you see yourself, in your own eyes.
At drinking wine, woe to the champions,
at mixing strong drinks, to the valiant.
Who, for a bribe, the guilty, will acquit,
and, of their rights, deprive the innocent.

As tongues of fire will, up, the stubble, lick,
and in the flame, as dry grass downwards sinks,
so rotten, how their roots will all become,
and all their blossoms blow away like dust.
For his instruction, that is what they’ve spurned,
the LORD of Hosts’, rejected, they’ve, his word,
the Holy One of Is’rael’s, from it, turned.

Therefore it’s roused, the anger of the LORD
against his people, and he stretched it toward,
his hand against them as to, down, them, strike;
and how it was, the mountains trembled, quaked,
like refuse in the streets, the corpses lay.
For all of this, it’s not been turned away,
his anger and his hand is still, up, raised.

A signal to a nation far away,
he’ll hoist a standard, as, without delay,
up front the ends of earth, to whistle them,
and speedily and promptly, they will come!
None stumbles, neither will they, weary, feel,
none of them either slumbers or will sleep.
None has, around his waist, his belt, loose, hung,
or, to his sandals, has a broken thong.
Their arrows, sharp, and all their bows are bent,
their horses’ clomping hooves are just like flint,
and like the whirlwind are their char’iot wheels.
It’s like a lion’s, how their roaring is.
Like lions, young, they growl and seize their prey,
they roar and carry it out to that place,
where there’s no rescue, from, there’s none to save.
That day, their roaring over it will be
just like the roaring of the stormy sea.
And anyone who looks out o’er the land
will see distress and darkness closing in,
because the gath’ring clouds, the light grows dim.