Woe is me! for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grapegleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the firstripe fruit.

Oh, how sad I am! It's like after summer fruits are picked, only the leftovers remain; there are no more clusters left for eating; my soul longs for fresh, ripe fruit.

King James Version

Simple English

* Work in progress - there may be occasional inaccuracies