14 Thou hast pierced with his staves the head of his leaders, They are tempestuous to scatter me, Their exultation 'is' as to consume the poor in secret.
15 Thou hast proceeded through the sea with Thy horses -- the clay of many waters.
16 I have heard, and my belly trembleth, At the noise have my lips quivered, Rottenness doth come into my bones, And in my place I do tremble, That I rest for a day of distress, At the coming up of the people, he overcometh it.
17 Though the fig-tree doth not flourish, And there is no produce among vines, Failed hath the work of the olive, And fields have not yielded food, Cut off from the fold hath been the flock, And there is no herd in the stalls.
18 Yet I, in Jehovah I exult, I do joy in the God of my salvation.
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