כִּֽי־תְאֵנָ֣ה לֹֽא־תִפְרָ֗ח וְאֵ֤ין יְבוּל֙ בַּגְּפָנִ֔ים כִּחֵשׁ֙ מַֽעֲשֵׂה־זַ֔יִת וּשְׁדֵמ֖וֹת לֹא־עָ֣שָׂה אֹ֑כֶל גָּזַ֤ר מִמִּכְלָה֙ צֹ֔אן וְאֵ֥ין בָּקָ֖ר בָּרְפָתִֽים׃
Though the fig tree does not budAnd no yield is on the vine,Though the olive crop has failedAnd the fields produce no grain,Though sheep have vanished from the foldAnd no cattle are in the pen,lOr: 15“You will make Your steeds tread the sea, / Stirring the mighty waters, / 16That I may have rest on a day of distress, / When a people come up to attack us. / But this report made my bowels quake, / These tidings made my lips quiver; / Rot entered into my bone, / I trembled where I stood: / 17That the fig tree does not bud, / And no yield is on the vine; / The olive crop has failed, / And the fields produce no grain; / The sheep have vanished from the fold, / And no cattle are in the pen.”