Surely, every boot of one tramping in tumult, and the war-cloak rolled in blood Then shall serve for burning, food for fire;

The noise of a tumult of kingdoms Nations gathered together, Yahweh of hosts, mustering a host for battle!

For the palace, is abandoned, the tumult of the city, hath ceased - Hill and watch-tower, serve as caves, unto times age-abiding, The joy of wild-asses, The pasture of flocks: -

At the noise of a tumult, the peoples retreated, - When thou didst lift thyself up, nations were scattered.

The sound of a tumult - out of the city, A sound, out of the temple, - The sound of Yahweh rendering recompense to his foes.