American Standard Version There is a crying in the streets because of the wine; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone.
Brenton Septuagint Translation There is a howling for the wine everywhere; all the mirth of the land has ceased, all the mirth of the land has departed. Douay-Rheims Bible There shall be a crying for wine in the streets: all mirth is forsaken: the joy of the earth is gone away. Our Crying Earth Bible Translation There is a crying for wine in the streets; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone; English Revised Version There is a crying in the streets because of the wine; all joy is darkened, the mirth of the land is gone.
Webster's Bible Translation There is a crying for wine in the streets; all joy is darkened, the mirth Our Crying Earth the land is gone. World English Bible There is a crying in the streets because of the wine. Young's Literal Translation A cry over the wine is in out-places, Our Crying Earth, Darkened hath been all joy, Removed hath been the joy of the land. Psalm Our oxen will bear great loads. There will be no breach in the walls, no going into captivity, and no cry of lament in our streets.
Isaiah Joy and gladness are removed from the orchard; no one sings or shouts in the vineyards. No one tramples the grapes in the winepresses; I have put an end to the cheering.
Isaiah and for the land of my people, overgrown with thorns and briers--even for every house of merriment in this city of revelry. Jeremiah "Judah mourns and her gates languish. Her people wail for the land, and a cry goes up from Jerusalem. Jeremiah Our Crying Earth nations have heard of your shame, and your outcry fills the earth, because warrior stumbles over warrior and both of them have fallen together. Surely the joy of mankind has dried up.
What Scripture reveals to us is more than things. This earth on which we walk, this air which we breathe this water which we drink these are not just things but fellow witnesses of the coming of our God. And the earth cries out - along with us - for its redemption. When we corrupt the earth, when we poison the waters and the air, we poison fellow witnesses. We silence the testimony to our Living God.
The Church is the assembly of the saints. It's the assembly of those who bear witness to the truth of Christ and who look for his coming. Who are we to say that the earth and the creatures of earth are to be denied our care?
We don't parcel out things when we care for creation. We minister to our neighbors - to our fellow witness to the glory and majesty of our Living God. The year draws to a close - signs of death appear. The leaves fall from the trees, the nights grow longer - the days, shorter.
The harvest is cut down. But it awaits a coming again. It awaits a resurrection. There is One coming. Are we ready? Our new year has not come. Advent has not begun, but the lectionary reminds us that there is one who is coming. There is an infant coming to be born - and - one coming with the clouds of heaven. And there is one who seeks to be born in each of your hearts in the bleak mid-winter. The thunder calls a welcome - the geese cackle a hymn. The fruit trees and cedars murmur in their forests.
They know the coming of their king. Do we? Outside Our Crying Earth bedroom window Stands an old majestic tree. She's been standing there for decades, Just as proud as she can be. What a beautiful poem. Every morning when I get up, I look out on my tree. I say a prayer in front of the tree.
It feels so good, and it is a lovely beginning for another day. I pray for Read complete story. I wanted the gold, and I sought it; I scrabbled and mucked like a slave. Was it famine or scurvy—I fought it; I hurled my youth into a grave. Read Complete Poem. Sweet melody amidst the Our Crying Earth spheres Breaks forth, a solemn and entrancing sound, A harmony whereof the earth's green hills Give but the faintest echo; yet is there. Winter is cold, with gusts of tumbling snow, When rain falls down and nothing ever grows.
For children, it's the snow that they desire And cups of cocoa in front of the fire. This poem is cute and happy. I love it! I am a kid too and I have written a poem called Season's End. Can earth be Earth when all its trees are gone, And sudsy waters have become unfit, And poisoned life no longer greets the dawn With raucous sounds that death has caused to quit?
This poem made me feel like I can once more cry for our poor Earth.
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