I have heard, and my heart[443] shakes;

At the sound my lips tremble,[444]

Rottenness enters my bones,[445]

My steps shake under me.[446]

I will ...[447] for the day of trouble

That pours in on the people.[448]

Though the fig-tree do not blossom,[449]

And no fruit be on the vines,

Fail the produce of the olive,