Disasters multiply beyond relief;
insect hordes swarm beyond fumigation;
unrelenting drought smothers crops, strips trees.
Alarm, dread, imminent apocalypse
open every tear duct, all wailing chords.
Fast and pray! cries the unknown prophet Joel.
All meet in Holy Judgment Valley, hear
the verdict: you stole My finest treasures;
come trample the grapes, the winepress is full.
Then at last My Holy Mountain abundance:
new wine, milk and grain, full fresh water streams;
My Spirit poured on all of you, says God.