16 I hear, and my body trembles,

my lips quiver at the sound;

rottenness enters into my bones,

my steps tottero beneath me.

I will quietly wait for the day of trouble

to come upon people who invade us.

17 Though the fig tree do not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

18 yet I will rejoice in the Lord,

I will joy in the God of my salvation.

19 GOD, the Lord, is my strength;

he makes my feet like hinds’ feet,

he makes me tread upon my high places.

To the choirmaster: with stringedp instruments.