Who can understand the spreading of the clouds, the thunderings of his pavilion?

It scorns the tumult in the town; it does not hear the shouts of a driver.

The noisy city is full of raucous sounds; the town is filled with revelry. Your slain were not cut down by the sword; they did not die in battle.

“What are you, you great mountain? Because of Zerubbabel you will become a level plain! And he will bring forth the temple capstone with shoutings of ‘Grace! Grace!’ because of this.”