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15 You marched forth,
Your horses in the sea—much water foaming.
16 I heard, and my belly trembled.
My lips quivered at the sound.
Decay comes into my bones.
I tremble where I stand,
since I must wait quietly for a day of distress
to come up against the people who will invade us.

17 Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and there is no yield on the vines,
Though the olive crop fail,
and the fields produce no food,
the flock is cut off from the fold,
and there is no cattle in the stalls.

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