29 “Rejoice not, O Philistia, all of you,

that the rod which smote you is broken,

for from the serpent’s root will come forth an adder,

and its fruit will be a flying serpent.

30 And the first-born of the poor will feed,

and the needy lie down in safety;

but I will kill your root with famine,

and your remnant I* will slay.

31 Wail, O gate; cry, O city;

melt in fear, O Philistia, all of you!

For smoke comes out of the north,

and there is no straggler in his ranks.”