The new wine mourns, The vine decays, All the merry-hearted sigh.
The gaiety of tambourines ceases, The noise of revelers stops, The gaiety of the harp ceases.
They do not drink wine with song; Strong drink is bitter to those who drink it.
The city of chaos is broken down; Every house is shut up so that none may enter.
There is an outcry in the streets concerning the wine; All joy turns to gloom. The gaiety of the earth is banished.
Desolation is left in the city And the gate is battered to ruins.