Land of mountains and valleys
Land that drinks rain from heaven
Valleys neither planted or plowed
Filled with pools of water
Glorious beauty
Set on the head of a fertile valley
Yet a fading flower
Pride of Ephraim’s drunkards
Pride of those laid low by wine
The soil in that valley is sweet to them
Everyone follows after them
A countless throng goes before them
Why do yo boast of your valleys
Boast of your valleys so fruitful?
Unfaithful Daughter
You trust in your riches and say
“Who will attack me?”
Woe to the wreath!
You shall see neither wind nor rain
The destroyer will come against every town
The valley will be ruined
The plateau destroyed
All abundance will be pecked out by ravens of the valley
Every valley will be raised up
Every mountain and hill made low
The day is coming
It will be called the Valley of Slaugther
I will spread your flesh on the mountains
Fill the valley with your remains
Great many bones on the floor of the valley
Bones that are very dry
The day is coming
Multitudes!
Multitudes in the valley of decision!
For the day of the Lord is near
In the valley of decision
The day is coming
Every valley shall be filled in
Every mountain and hill made low
The crooked roads shall become straight
The rough ways smooth
The day is coming
In that day
The mountains will drip new wine
The hills will flow with milk
All the ravines will run with water
A fountain will flow
Out of the Lord’s house
The meadows will be covered with flocks
The valleys will be mantled with grain
They will shout for joy and sing
The day is coming
