Translations
How desolate I am! I am like the last gleaner at summer's end, like the scraps left after the grape harvest — not one cluster remains; my soul ached for the first-ripe fruit and found none.
Woe is me! For I have become like the tail-end of a summer harvest, like the last gleanings of the vintage — not a single cluster left to eat; my very being craved the first-ripe fig.
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.
Woe is me! For I am like one gathering summer fruit at the gleaning of the vineyard; there is no cluster to eat, no early fig that I crave.

