His eyes will be dark from wine, and his teeth white from milk.
Binding his foal to the vine, and his colt to the choicest vine, he will wash his garments in wine, his robes in the blood of grapes.
Zebulun will live by the haven of the sea and become a haven for ships; his border will extend to Sidon.
Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaints? Who has wounds without cause? Who has dullness of the eyes?