Though the fig tree [does] not blossom, nor there be fruit on the vines; the yield of [the] olive tree fails, and the cultivated fields do not yield food; [the] flock is cut off from the animal pen, and there is no cattle in the stalls,

Yahweh, my Lord, [is] my strength; he makes my feet like the deer; he causes me to walk on my high places. To the choirmaster with stringed instruments.