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,