Of Damascus. Turned pale have Hamath and Arpad, For, a calamitous report, have they heard - they tremble, - In the sea, is anxiety, it cannot, rest.

Enfeebled is Damascus She hath turned to flee But terror, hath seized her, - Anguish and pangs, have seized her as a woman in childbirth.

“Why has the renowned city not been deserted,
The city of My joy!

Then will I kindle a fire in the walls of Damascus, - And it shall devour the palaces of Ben-hadad.