Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the (a) summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: [there is] no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.
(a) The Prophet takes upon himself the voice of the earth, which complains that all her fruits are gone, so that none are left: that is, that there is no godly man remaining, for all are given to cruelty and deceit, so that none spares his own brother.