I will cry and weep for the mountains. I will sing a funeral song for the pastures in the wilderness. They are destroyed so that no one can travel through them. No one can hear the sound of cattle. Birds and cattle have fled. They are gone.
In front of this army a fire burns. Behind it flames are blazing. In front of it the land is like the garden of Eden. Behind it the land is like a barren desert. Nothing escapes it!
He said: The Lord roars from Zion, and his voice thunders from Jerusalem. The pastures of the shepherds are turning brown, and the top of ⌞Mount⌟ Carmel is dried up.